


As Bright as the Stars

by zombolouge



Series: Counting the Stars [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 also has many many feelings, 707 doesn't handle stress well, Abrupt strangers, And More Angst, Angst, Anna's Back, Big Brother Zen, Cliffhangers, Climactic endings, Depression, Desperation, Does Jumin Han is Bi?, Drug Use, Duckling Yoosung, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Finally, Flashbacks, Fluff, Found Family, He doesn't know yet, Hero Yoosung, I am now trying to murder us all via fluff, I am shipper trash and have shipped everyone I'm so sorry, I have also been told that it has killed people, I have been told reading this fic has curative properties, I have committed great crimes with this story, I hear it's a bad idea to read this in public, I swear to god there's a happy ending in here somewhere please believe in me, Invasions of Privacy, Jumin IS NOT OBLIVIOUS ANYMORE, Jumin chasing Yoosung around his apartment because reasons, Jumin cons the awful women, Jumin has a lot of feelings okay?, Jumin is very very confused, Loneliness, Love is Alive, M/M, Manipulation, Mystery, Nicky has no sense of direction or aim, Nicky just wants to help, Nicky tries so hard to be brave, Nicolette's bad life choices, PSA check your email kids, Panic Attacks, Papa Han, Reunions, Ribbons, Russians, Sarcasm, Seven finally figures it out, Seven is poetic sometimes, Seven makes really really bad plans, Smut, Spoilers for most of the routes as well as the secret endings, Strife - Freeform, Suffering, THE HAPPY ENDING IS STILL IN THE TAGS, The Author Regrets Everything, Vanderwood feelings, Vanderwood has a backstory now OOPS, Vanderwood is a trans woman, Vanderwood is everyone's Mom now, Vanderwood is salty af, Vanderwood will cut a bitch for Nicky, Warning: reading this may require the use of a defibrillator, Yoosung helped save the day, Zen/Jaehee, a general sense of foreboding, a lot of OCs but I swear they have a purpose, a new era for the RFA, a very long story, action packed, additional smut, additional suffering, adorable texting, awkward texting, beautiful art now included, because when I first played I legit just thought she was a trans character, but he will, chaotic plotlines, dueling metaphors, emotional music, everyone is a disaster but at least they're together now, flirting via security camera, forgiveness all around, heartfelt apologies, hello darkness my old friend, honesty hour, ill advised climbing, impending doom, jokes about pizza, okay I swear if you can get through the suffering I have some high caliber fluff in here, pretending everything is fine when it's clearly NOT, religion...???, secret agent friendships, slight AU, soon to be part of a series, stranger danger, tags will update as the story progresses, tense situations, that's not what windows are for, the looming threat of a fedora, the mechanics of a good hug, the smut's in chapter 49, tragic backstories, violence against musical instruments, way too many references to space, when blushing causes an existential crisis, when the sound "mmmm" is a weapon, yeah Cheritz can do what they want but I'm keeping trans Vanderwood, zombie chickens covered in jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:32:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 111
Words: 386,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8326210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombolouge/pseuds/zombolouge
Summary: Nicolette stumbles her way into the job of party planner by making some terrible life choices. Will it turn out to be the worst thing that's ever happened to her...or the best?





	1. In for a Penny, in for a Pound

**Author's Note:**

> I have A LOT OF FEELINGS about Mystic Messenger, okay? This is all but writing itself, I've been possessed, send help this isn't even my normal fandom -_-
> 
> Anyways, this story sort of meshes a few of the routes together, particularly Jumin's and Seven's. The events will not necessarily happen exactly as they did in the game, nor will I regurgitate the same in-game chats. So...uh...hope you enjoy?

The bus lurched, and it sent her tumbling forward so that she had to brace her hand on the back of the seat in front of her. Her bag dropped to the floor with an unceremonious thump, and the fingers on her other hand clutched around her phone, which threatened to leap from her grasp and dash itself against the dusty bus floor.

She furrowed her brow, picking up her bag and tucking it back in her lap before she shifted her unruly hair back out of her face. She was really beginning to hate riding the bus. This was the third time this week that the driver had hit that pothole, and every time she had almost cracked her head against the railing on the seat in front of her. Public transit was supposed to be _safer_ than driving these days, but her experience on this particular bus was proving that untrue.

She settled back in the seat, sliding so that her knees touched the back of the bench in front of her. A yawn worked its way up and out of her throat, and she blinked away the urge to sleep. Heaven only knew what would happen if she dozed off on the death bus! She shook her head, a wave of her red hair ghosting across her cheek before she irritably brushed it away. She wrinkled her nose, wondering how frizzy it had gotten while she jostled around. The static from the plastic seats always wreaked havoc on her already ill tempered hair, and it was always impossible to do anything with afterward. Although, it wasn’t as though she had anything worth looking nice for at the end of the day, anyhow. Netflix and Steam didn’t ask her to look pretty, only to input her credit card number when required.

Ignoring the urge to get up and scream just to instigate something interesting happening in her life, she held her phone up in front of her face and swiped the little cat icon on the screen to the left, unlocking it.

Then she paused, because she didn’t quite know what she wanted to do with her time. She could be productive, and try to read from one of the dry textbooks downloaded onto her Kindle. She could also pick back up where she had left off in that sci-fi novel about the lonely planet, but it had been so long since she had the time to read it that she wasn’t confident she remembered what was happening anymore. If she dug out her headphones she could listen to a podcast, or maybe the sonata that she was supposed to be practicing later, but right now sitting up and rummaging through her bag sounded like an inordinate amount of work. What did that leave her? She tapped the side of the phone, staring at the little rounded squares that displayed all the options at her disposal. Puzzle game? Dating sim? She didn’t have anyone that she could text, and after the disaster that had happened three weeks ago she had been avoiding Facebook completely. The animosity that she found there made the entire place unsavory.

A chime echoed out of the speaker on the phone, and a bright blue square popped up in the center notifying her that she had a new email. The notification didn’t specify what the email was, which was odd, but she didn’t pause long to think about it. Her finger tapped over the envelope icon, pulling up her inbox. It was probably just another spam message, but at the very least it could provide a momentary distraction from the boredom of a grueling commute. Maybe if it was one of those scam emails she would mess around with the guy first. She had once claimed to be a Nigerian prince’s wife, sitting at home waiting for him to return. It had been hilarious to watch the scammer go from adamant denial to confused acceptance as he promised to rush home and help with the cooking, if only she wouldn’t divorce him. She had no idea if the man was actually married, but by the end of their conversation he had at least _believed_ that he was, and that had been a great victory for her.

The new message was waiting for her at the top of her old ones. She tried not to look at the subject lines below, listing all the friends she no longer had. She should just delete them. They hung around in her inbox like ghosts, reminding her of all the people that she had thought loved her, reminding her of just how lonely she had become after her move. She swallowed, and the air in her throat seemed to stick to the back of her tongue like glue. _Ignore it, Nicky. They aren_ _’t worth any more tears._

The new email didn’t seem to have a sender, which was stranger still, but she was so distracted by the subject that she didn’t dwell on it.

**Bored? Lonely? Read on.**

 

What a strange way to title an email. Also eerily appropriate, considering the day she was having, although that had to just be coincidence. She was fairly certain that the internet had not become a sentient being, reaching out to ease her woes on the long, lonely commute. She tapped the message and it opened up, expanding to fill the screen. There was a small logo of a green eye at the top, that looked like some sort of Egyptian design. It was pretty, in a way, but not any kind of brand that she recognized. The font of the message was bold, with big blocky letters that looked like a marquee.

**Meet new and exciting people! Accomplish your dreams! Find Paradise! Anything is possible with the new RFA messenger program! Download today to unlock the secret purpose of your life!**

 

What a weird advertisement. What did that even mean, to find paradise? She smirked as she stared at the download link. How was a messenger app supposed to “unlock the secret purpose of her life”? She was convinced that her life, of all lives, had no secret purpose. Except maybe to fail at her next solo performance, but that wasn’t exactly a _secret_ purpose. There was a small chibi figure dancing next to the link offering the download for the app, a burst of balloons flying out of his pockets with every new loop. He looked like a blank avatar picture that had sprung to life.

She looked at the clock in the top corner of her phone. 7:32 pm. She had to bite her lip to stifle the groan that tried to jump out of her throat as she realized she still had another hour before she reached her stop. She really needed to find a way to move closer to the school. At least she would be on break for the next two weeks, but that just meant she had that many days to dread the long hours of practice and study that would start when she would return. Plus, the promise of resting for a few days didn’t change the fact that she was stuck on this bus for the foreseeable future, and didn’t have anything interesting to do.

The chibi figure bounced up and down, taunting her. _What the hell. If it_ _’s a virus I’ll just wipe the phone and start over, it’s not like I have any memories on it worth saving._

She hit the link, and then her phone screen flashed, the briefest flicker of green before it returned to normal, although the email closed out and disappeared. _Oh no, that definitely wasn_ _’t good_. She waited, certain that the phone-based apocalypse was about to spring from her device, but nothing further happened. She narrowed her eyes, as though the phone could be goaded by her suspicion. Maybe this had been a bad idea…worse still, the download hadn’t started, so it hadn’t even been a good waste of time.

She tapped the little trashcan symbol, looking for the email to try the link again, because if she was in for a penny she was in for a pound. _Empty?_ No messages. It had vanished. She tried her spam folder, then her archived folder. Frenzied, she flipped through every different category in her mail program, but the message had vanished without a trace. That did _not_ make her any more confident about her decision to tap that link.

She closed the app, and was about to close out her phone and stare out the window with the morose dedication of someone who makes terrible life decisions, but before the screen went dark a small spot of unfamiliar color caught her eye.

A new app.

It was labeled only as RFA, the letters placed on a dark brown background like stained mahogany. Around them rested a delicate gold filigree, curving to take up some of the blank space in the square. She stared at it, and she had the strangest feeling that it was staring back at her, singing some sort of silent siren song that beckoned her to open it.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

She opened the app, and her screen was filled with cascading lines of green code on a black background. It made an urgent beeping noise for a second, then went completely silent again. There was a white bar at the bottom, with the word “send” written on a button next to it. A speech bubble hovered on the bottom of the screen just above that, with three dots blinking in an orderly succession.

She had seen that before, in every other instant messaging app she had ever used. Someone was sending her a message.

**Unknown: Hello? Is** **…Is anybody there?**

 

She waited, watching the the faceless silhouette next to the words. She drummed her finger along the side of her phone, chewing on her lower lip.

**Unknown: Hello? Please respond, I don** **’t bite! :)**

 

She smiled in spite of herself. She was in for a lot more than a penny or a pound at this point, but the clock told her that she had only wasted ten minutes since she had last checked it, and she had already made one stupid decision so she might as well continue the theme. She typed out a response, her fingers feeling like rubber weights over the small, digital keyboard. When she hit send, she was alarmed to note that her name popped up next to the response, along with a picture of her. It was one where most of her face was hidden behind a violin, nothing but her hazel eyes peering over the top, but it was still _her face_. A tremor of fear flickered across her nerves.

**Nicolette: Hello? Are you here looking for your secret purpose too? :3**

 

There was no hesitation on the other end, and a speech bubble popped up in an instant, followed by rapid fire messages that made her head spin with how fast the person on the other end must be typing.

**Unknown: Oh, thank goodness, I** **’ve been trying to find someone for ages!**

**Unknown: Listen, can I ask for your help?**

**Unknown: Normally I wouldn** **’t do this but…**

**Unknown: I found this phone, and the only thing on it seems to be this app and an address.**

**Unknown: I really want to return it, to make sure it gets back to it** **s home.**

**Unknown: Will you help me?**

 

She had absolutely no good reason for believing this story, or responding, but for some reason her fingers started hitting the keys again.

**Nicolette: Um** **…how?**

**Nicolette: Also, if this is a trick to rob me you should know I am totally broke right now.**

 

He was fast to respond again.

**Unknown: No trick! I just really want to make sure this phone gets returned, it looks very expensive.**

**Unknown: If you can help, I thought you might be able to go to the address listed here, and leave a note or something.**

**Unknown: I would go myself, but I** **’m trapped at work! :(**

 **Unknown: I pulled it up on the map, and it** **’s in an apartment building not far from downtown. It should be totally safe since it’s so public.**

 

She tapped her foot against the legs of her seat. She sat up, leaning forward as though if she brought her face closer to the phone it would tell her what decision she should make. On the one hand, she had no idea who this person was, no idea if they were honest, no idea where this app came from, no idea if she were about to be brutally murdered by going to that address. On the other hand…if they _were_ being honest, she would hate to think that someone would lose an expensive phone forever. Most people kept a lot of important things on their phones these days, and to a lot of people losing that would be like losing their life.

**Nicolette: What** **’s the address?**

 

The speech bubble blinked for a second, and then a link to Google Maps popped up. She clicked it, and the phone switched over to the map display, showing her the location of the apartment. She looked it over, and her heart did a strange dance against her ribs when she realized it wasn’t far from her. Ash Street…she glanced up, and looked at the display on the bus showing the name of the next stop. The apartment was only a few blocks from there! She could get off and walk to it in less time than it would take her to get home if she stayed.

The mystery messenger hadn’t lied, either. The apartment was in a good neighborhood, not far from the high-rise infested center of the business district. It certainly wasn’t the type of place she would expect to be lured to if she were going to be horribly murdered by technologically advanced ninjas. Or whoever had made this app.

**Nicolette: Alright, I** **’ll go, but if I get murdered I’m coming back to haunt you.**

**Unknown: ^^**

**Unknown: T**

**Unknown: H**

**Unknown: A**

**Unknown: N**

**Unknown: K**

**Unknown: YOU!**

 

He said nothing further after that, so she put her phone to sleep and gathered her things, pulling on the cord above her head to indicate she wanted to get off at the next stop. Her head was spinning, and she felt like she had ants marching around in her veins from her nerves, but she was also a little thrilled by it. It was something different, something that wasn’t the same old bowl of ramen as she sat on her couch and wondered if loneliness could crush a person to death. Who knew, maybe she could actually meet interesting people through this app. Maybe she would become friends with Unknown, and they could go around town doing good deeds by returning wayward electronic devices to their besotted owners.

She rolled her eyes at herself, fully aware that she had a ridiculous imagination and a tenuous grasp on reality, at best.

The bus pulled into the stop, and she jumped out of her seat and skipped down the aisle. Waving an exuberant goodbye to the driver, she leaped over the stairs and landed squarely on the concrete, her flat-tops making a squeaking sound as they scuffed against the ground. The door behind her slapped shut, the driver scowling at her like joy and happiness were against his religion. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and winked at him, and he pressed down on the gas and rumbled away and out of sight. Smirking, she made her way around the corner, following the map towards her unfamiliar destination.

 The building was much nicer than she had expected, and she had expected nice considering the part of town. She stood in front of the lobby door, staring straight up into the sky as the towering architecture dwarfed her small frame. It was a monolith of crystalline glass and polished chrome, reflecting the lights of the city around it. Those living within didn’t seem to be using any light if they were home, and so the darkened windows mirrored the night sky, turning it into a column of stars in the middle of the urban jungle. She tilted her head back to a normal angle, wincing as her muscles reminded her she was not meant to gaze in that position for quite so long, and peered through the doors into the lobby. She saw a row of perfectly clean mailboxes, a plush blue carpet, and gleaming elevator doors. There was no attendant to be found, which seemed odd for such a luxurious building. She pulled up her phone and checked the address for the millionth time, confirming the apartment number. 1701. Unless the building defied standard conventions, that would put her destination on the 17th floor. That was a long way up from where she stood now.

Her throat felt dry, but she steeled her nerves and took a step forward, ignoring the jello that had suddenly appeared in her knees and made her want to topple over. The handle on the doors was cold in the wintry air, and she realized that her palms had been sweating as she wrapped her fingers around the smooth metal. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She was just leaving a note, why on earth was she so nervous? Nothing could possibly be that sinister in a building this beautiful, could it?

She flung the door open with a stronger sense of purpose, walked across the lobby, and mashed the elevator button. A musical chime floated through the room as it lit up, blinking to indicate its activation. The faintest whir of air and well maintained mechanics filled the room, and within moments the elevator chimed again as the doors slid open. Inside was an elegant marble floor, brushed silver walls, and lights on both the ceiling and the floor, creating a bright and welcoming space. She hesitated for a second, straining her ears and trying so let her senses take in the atmosphere, to see if she should run. Other than a general feeling of unease, she could detect no danger.

She didn’t belong in places this nice. That Unknown person must have been right about that phone being expensive, if it belonged to someone that lived here. She walked in before the elevator could change its mind and deny her access, and pushed the button for the 17th floor. It went up as high as the 20th, and she wondered if the units got more expensive as they grew closer to the sky. Gravity tugged at her stomach as she ascended through the levels, and she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. There was a small tear in the corner, where the fabric had frayed. She wished that she had dressed nicer, but she hadn’t planned on running errands to a place about a thousand times above her pay grade. Of course, a pay grade of zero multiplied by a thousand would still be zero, but she couldn’t be bothered to come up with a more accurate math joke at the moment.

The music chimed again, and the doors slip open without a sound. She popped her head out and looked up and down the hallway, rows of solid white doors standing at attention along the sky blue walls. She stepped out of the elevator and let it close behind her, her feet completely muffled by more carpet the color of the ocean at midnight. Silver numbers were placed perfectly on the fronts of the doors, and a silver plaque directly in front of her face indicated that numbers above 1750 were to her left, and numbers below it were to the right. She spun on her heel and marched to the right, all the way to the end of the hall.

Number 1701. It was the last one in the row, its handle shining in the soft light, a keypad just below showing a small, red light. From the window on the wall next to her, she could see the entire city spread out below, the view overlooking the park not far from where she was. She could see the muddled shapes of trees in the darkness, gently swaying in the late autumn breeze. They looked like they were dancing, their leaves the form of elegant dresses as they moved to the rhythm of the world around them, a waltz of moonlight to guide their footless steps.

She pulled up her phone, switching back over to the messenger app.

**Nicolette: I** **’m here, what do you want me to put on the note?**

 

She bent her head, shifting her bag so that it was in front of her, and started digging around for a pen and paper. The app pinged.

**Unknown: Is there a keypad lock on the door?**

 

She put the pen she had found in her mouth and dropped her bag with, sighing around the plastic Bic between her teeth and abandoning the search for paper so that she could respond.

**Nicolette: Yes, why?**

**Unknown: Enter the code 135.**

 

Her jaw fell open, but no sound came out.

**Nicolette: What?! Are you insane?**

**Nicolette: I can** **’t just put in the code on some stranger’s house!**

**Nicolette: Why do you even have that code?!?!**

**Unknown: It was with the address! QQ**

**Unknown: Please, I don** **’t think it’s enough to leave a note on the door.**

**Unknown: Just go inside for a second and see if you can find a way to contact the person.**

**Nicolette: Um** **…no?! I can’t just walk around somebody’s house!**

 **Nicolette: We don** **’t even know if anybody’s home!**

**Unknown: Then knock.**

 

She scowled at the screen, the light casting strange shadows against her fingers. This is what she got for having faith in humanity, a complete lunatic who just wanted her to walk in unannounced to someone else’s home. She raised her hand and rapped her knuckles against the door, harder than she had meant to as she fumed at Unknown. She recoiled from the sound as it echoed down the quiet hallway, hoping that she hadn’t offended the person that lived there before even getting a word out of her mouth. She rolled her eyes at her own ineptitude. _Ah, the quiet social grace of Nicolette Devie, ultimate people-person._

Her internal sarcasm was greeted by nothing more than her surly frown, as the door remained closed and the entire building remained silent. From what she could tell, no one stirred inside.

Her phone pinged again.

**Unknown: Is anyone home?**

**Nicolette:** **…no. Unless they just don’t feel like answering their door.**

**Nicolette: WHICH IS PERFECTLY PLAUSIBLE.**

**Unknown: I know this is strange, but please** **…**

 **Unknown: This phone is REALLY expensive, I** **’m worried that someone with impure intentions could find the note and try to contact me** **, and I would give it to the wrong person.**

**Unknown: But if you just leave it inside, then I can be sure the right person gets the message.**

 

She frowned, possibly harder than she had ever frowned before. That…actually made a bit of sense. She didn’t have a great feeling about it, but she could understand why they might not want to leave a note out in the open. If the phone was as expensive looking as the apartment, she wouldn’t want to risk being swindled out of returning it to its rightful owner either. She kicked her foot against the door absently, mulling it over. She _did_ want to help…and it wasn’t as though she was a thief, or had bad intentions. It might be somewhat creepy for the person to come back and find a note _inside their house,_ but if she explained everything then it would be fine…probably. Besides, they would never be able to track her down, she was only going to leave Unknown’s information for them to find. She would just be the anonymous do-gooder…with creeptastic methods.

**Unknown: Please** **…**

**Unknown: I know you must be a good person because you got this far. Just a little further.**

 

She sighed, knowing that she was a gullible idiot.

**Nicolette: Fine, I** **’m going in. Might I remind you, if I’m murdered, I WILL find you and haunt you.**

**Unknown: Noted. ^^**

 

She pushed in the three digit code, and there was a metallic click before the light on the pad turned green. She palmed the handle, pushed down, and opened the door. She stepped inside and the door  eased shut behind her of its own accord, the oiled hinges as silent as the dead.

Inside was a smaller apartment than she had expected, with modern furnishings. There was a black leather couch in the corner, a computer desk against the wall with a _very_ expensive looking chair beside it, and a modest kitchen with top of the line appliances. A potted plant stood in the corner next to the window, its leaves full of holes and wilted, like it had been left unattended for some time. A picture of a stunning sunset was hung on the wall above the couch, the frame meticulously hung so that it was level with the center of the massive windows dominating one wall of the room. Folders, papers, and binders were stacked all over just about every surface, aside from the couch and the kitchen counters.

She stood there, taking stock of the still and frozen scene for a few minutes, waiting for either a very pissed off dweller to emerge from the hallway or a large ax murder intent on turning her guts into gazpacho.

Nothing happened.

She lifted her phone up, intending to ask Unknown what they wanted written on the note, but the screen flashed again, and the app changed. The green letters disappeared from the background, and she found herself thrown in the middle of a chat room filled with people she had never heard of before. Somewhere in her head she reminded herself that this had all been a terrible decision, but it was too late to go back now.

In for a penny, in for a pound.


	2. Maybe I Like Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven finds an intruder!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The benefits of me being obsessed with a thing are that I can write incredibly fast about that thing. 
> 
> SO HERE, HAVE TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY.

He smirked as he watched the text fly by on his screen. The light from the phone lit up the space around him, a halo of gentle blue in the sea of darkness. His bunker was unlit, cast into shadows because he had no need of the extra space at the moment. It was better to put things out of sight when he didn’t need them, so they didn’t bring intrusive thoughts to interrupt his day. He was in front of his computer, but the screen was dimmed, a black background flashing code too quickly to read properly as the program decrypted the files. He was ignoring it for the time being, since it was just a waiting game until it finished.

 

_**Yoosung has entered the chat.** _

**Yoosung: My day was the WORST.**

**ZEN: Sounds dramatic!**

**Jaehee: What happened?**

**Yoosung: It’s too terrible to say!**

 

An image of a smaller version of Yoosung appeared on the screen, animated tears falling from his eyes. The image reflected off Seven’s glasses as he watched it scroll away while Zen and Jaehee attempted to persuade Yoosung to confess to the terribleness of his day. They were so noisy, sometimes. He couldn’t actually hear them, but to Seven it felt like he could when he read their messages. He smiled, absently adjusting his headphones as he typed into the chat with one hand.

 

**707: Could it be?!?!?!**

**707: Our Yoosung…**

**707: Sweet, young Yoosung…**

**707: Raised from a precious egg…**

**ZEN: Out with it Seven -_-**

**707: IS FINALLY BECOMING A MAN?!?!?!?!?!?!!**

**707: Has he known and LOST the LOVE OF A WOMAN???**

 

Yoosung sent the crying emoji once more, and the chat devolved into hysterics as each person weighed in, questioning if Yoosung had found a girlfriend and been dumped. He chuckled to himself, looking at the whirring numbers on his desktop screen. It was soothing to watch them speed by, in a way. Like a waterfall of information. Would he become smarter if he stood beneath it, and let it crash over his head? He turned, squinting into the dark of the room and the navy shadows cast by his screens, trying to find where he put his soda can. It had been somewhere next to the stack of empty chip bags… _ah, there. Found you!_ He grabbed it, shaking it for a moment to ensure there was something left in it before bringing it to his lips and downing the last drops. He would have to get up and get more soon, but for the moment he was happy to remain in his chair, still and hidden from the world. His exhaustion would eventually demand more caffeine. Or he could sleep. _Ha, fat chance Luciel._

He glanced back at his phone, flicking his finger along the glass so he could see what he had missed. They could fill the screen in the blink of an eye, chattering away about nothing and everything. He smirked, reading from the bottom up and knowing that at some point Yoosung had admitted that he had failed his midterms. Seven had already known, of course, because he had set up alerts for such things, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to help their youngest member. Maybe he could create a bot that told Yoosung LOLOL was under maintenance every day? No, too obvious, Yoosung would figure it out eventually and trace it back to him. Couldn’t have that.

He reached the point where he had looked away, just as Yoosung had confessed, and that was when he saw it. Inconspicuous, invisible to the others, passing by in their conversation in the span of a heartbeat. As he saw it, he felt as though his own heart stopped in his chest. There it was, in front of their eyes, and no one had even given it a second glance.

 

_**Nicolette has entered the chatroom.** _

 

He dropped the can, letting it clatter on the ground noisily, disrupting the stony silence around him. He put both hands on his keyboard, minimizing the decryption program and pulling up the logs and information for the chatroom. In the seconds that it took for the server to retrieve the information, he typed out a warning on his phone.

 

**707: WAIT!!!**

 

Confusion, jokes. Seven didn’t see what they said, he just kept typing.

 

**707: I think someone else is in the chatroom!**

**Jumin: Nicolette…**

**Zen: What is a Nicolette?!**

**Yoosung: Like the gum?**

**Jaehee: Yoosung, that is Nicorette.**

**Zen: Why is it HERE?!**

 

Seven turned away, looking through information as the server populated his screen with jumbles of data. So much code, so little time. He had to know who they were, what they were, where they were, and how they got in.

His heart skipped a beat. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, and he was having trouble fighting the small smile that wanted to stretch across his lips. This was different. This was _new_ , and until this moment he hadn’t realized how much that would please him. He should have been furious, but he wasn’t. He was…curious? Excited? Whatever it was, he suddenly felt like he was waking up for the first time in a year and a half, the ghostly fingers that Rika had left on them all were loosening their grip.

_Get a grip, Seven, this isn’t a joke. This person shouldn’t be here! Focus!_

There! There it was, the subtle alteration to his algorithms, a temporary hack meant to open a door and close it, with no one the wiser afterward. A single digit slid back into place in the wrong order had left it ajar, so that he could see someone had been sneaking in his room. He initiated a check through the system, shoving the window aside with his mouse pointer so that he could look at the logs. They had logged into the app earlier that day…around 7:42 pm. The time between their first login and their completed registration was 0.0002 seconds. No human could complete registration that fast, so it must have been bot of some kind. He hummed softly to himself as he looked over the GPS data. Initial login had been through satellite service, directly on their phone. The current location was…

A cold ball of dread settled in the pit of his stomach, and he regretted his earlier thought of Rika’s ghost.

He checked it, slammed a run command into the prompt, and had the system double check it. It came back in an instant, confirming his fear. Whoever or whatever it was, it was using the wifi in Rika’s apartment.

He opened the desktop version of the chatroom, knowing that he would need his phone in approximately two minutes to make a call. He didn’t look at the messages, but he stared at his fingers as they hovered over the keyboard. He didn’t want to type. He didn’t want to tell them what he knew. It felt like it was too much, too personal or too close to something that he wanted to keep locked away in the back of his mind. Still, they had a right to know.

 

**707: Found something.**

**707: Traced the IP…**

**707: it’s coming from Rika’s place.**

**Yoosung: RIKA’S?!**

**Jaehee: Luciel, are you sure you aren’t mistaken?**

**707: Nope, confirmed. Checked and checked.**

**707: Whatever it is, it’s hooked into her internet.**

**Nicolette: I’m not an IT, thank you very much.**

 

A profile picture popped up next to the words, and as he gaped at it he felt like time stood still. Was that…her? He looked at it, and he felt as though it was looking back at him, reading his mind and stealing away all his secrets. It didn’t show much of her face, most of it was hidden behind some wooden object, but he could see bright hazel eyes peering from between long lashes, and a strand of ruby hair falling across her face along the bridge of her nose.

He swallowed, tearing his eyes away from the picture and the chat, his fingers flying over the keyboard and filling the room with incessant clicking as he pulled up different search programs. He copied the picture and pasted it into the query, and added all the information that he knew about her so far, the data from her login on the phone and her name. Her presumed name.

 _Bingo!_ The searches found hits quickly, and he got the confirmation he needed. The picture was of her. A girl. That was really what she looked like. Other images popped up in front of him, pilfered from social media and a few other sites, and he couldn’t help but pause his typing and stare. Then he couldn’t bring himself to stop staring. He swallowed again, regretting his decision to avoid getting something to drink, as his throat felt dry and arid. There was a word thrumming in the back of his head, and he tried to clamp it back down, to shut it off like an annoying buzzer. _Beautiful._ What a strange thing to feel, in a situation like this.

He minimized the window with the pictures. He didn’t need them. He picked up the phone and started calling V, and turned his attention back to the chat.

 

**707: calling V.**

**707: Pulling up her information now.**

**ZEN: Her?! You mean it really IS a girl?**

**Nicolette: Does it make a difference? I mean, if I’m suspicious then I’m suspicious, right?**

**Yoosung: ~A girl~ Should we introduce ourselves?**

**Nicolette: You just wanted to call the police a second ago!**

**Jaehee:…she has a point.**

 

The phone rang on the other end of the line as he watched, listening to the robotic mesh of tones and trying not to stare at her picture again.

 

**Nicolette: Well, uh…I guess you can all see my name is Nicolette.**

**Nicolette: I’m sorry we have to meet under such weird circumstances.**

**Yoosung: I’m Yoosung!~ I’m 21, and right now I’m a college student. ^^**

**Jaehee: All that? We don’t know why she’s here yet!**

**ZEN: I’m Zen! I’m a musical actor, but don’t look me up because it’s too embarrassing.~**

 

Immediately following his message, a selfie popped into the chat, featuring Zen looking deep and meaningful as he gazed out of a window. Seven made a mental note to feed it to the Twitterbot at some point, since Zen’s fans would definitely go ballistic for it. Static on the other end of the line broke through his concentration, and he turned slightly, facing away from the chat.

“Luciel. Is this important? It’s late.” His voice was firm, and tired. Then again, he always sounded exhausted these days.

Seven hesitated. He didn’t want to tell him. He should know, probably more than any of them V needed to be looped into the situation, but now that he was faced with saying the words out loud he wanted to back out of it. He didn’t want to say where this girl was, because it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Of all the things he hated most, delivering bad or painful news was definitely towards the top of the list.

“Someone’s in the chatroom. She’s inside Rika’s apartment.”

Dead silence met him on the other line, and he winced. Seven waited, and looked at the chat again.

 

**Jumin: Do not tell her about Elizabeth the 3rd!! She is too precious to be risked on this unknown stranger.**

**Nicolette: What happened to Elizabeth one and two?**

**ZEN: lololol**

**Jumin: …**

**Yoosung: OMG JUMIN DID YOU HAVE OTHER CATS?!**

**Jumin: No. There has only ever been Elizabeth the 3rd.**

**Nicolette: lolol that’s good to hear, I would have been worried if you were a serial cat murderer.**

**Jaehee: Oh no…**

**Jumin: That is preposterous! I would NEVER harm a creature of such pure grace and beauty!**

**Nicolette: Easy there, suit boy, I’m on your side. Cats are awesome! ^_^**

 

She made jokes. She laughed, and she teased Jumin. She was _real_.

“Why didn’t the security system trip?” V’s voice brought him back to reality, and he realized that he had been grinning like an idiot. He was thankful that this wasn’t a video call.

“Don’t know. Looks like she had the code to get in, and the sensors seem to recognize her as a guest. Someones been in and out of the system, but I won’t know what they’ve done until I can sit down once all the excitement has settled.”

“Trigger the failsafe.”

Seven’s fingers spasmodically gripped the edges of his phone. “You…you misspoke.”

“No. Trigger it now. We can’t have someone in that apartment.”

Seven grit his teeth together and spoke through them. “No.”

“Luciel, please, there’s too much risk…you don’t understand.”

He glanced at her picture, her eyes looking up at him, like a cat asking him to come and play. “We don’t know anything about her.”

“Exactly.” He was grim, a judge and jury all wrapped into one, ready to sentence whether the accused was guilty or not.

“I won’t trip that without _knowing,_ V. That was always the deal.”

He heard the man on the other line take a deep, shaking breath, his nerves showing in the static filled rush of air that reached Seven’s ears. “Fine. I don’t like this.”

“Of course not.” He glanced at the chat, and saw a bunch of capital letters flying by, and he couldn’t tell if they were angry or excited. “Ah, uh, you’d better think about getting in there. They’re going crazy on her.”

“Fine. I’m going.” The click on the other end was final, resolute, and Seven tossed his phone down on the desk, feeling disgusted with himself. He really hated giving bad news.

He pulled up one of his windows, sorting through the information that it had pulled, careful to ignore the screen with all her pictures. He read through the information, his brow furrowing.

Normal? Average? What was all this? She was a student, a music major at the prestigious conservatory to the far south of town. She played two instruments and sang, and her extracurricular activities included occasional volunteer work at the animal shelter, participation in a book club, and going to concerts of varying genres. Did she ever sleep?

More to the point, this was the girl who had infiltrated their top secret, classified location?

His eyes slid over to the chat window, and he looked at her picture again. She looked so…bright. Brighter than all the stars in the sky.

He shook his head, tilting his neck so that he could stretch his stiff muscles. He was an idiot for thinking such a weird thing about her. _Focus, dummy._

V had not yet arrived in the chatroom, so he decided that he should probably step in himself before they all revolted.

 

**707: Hey, mysterious stranger, how’d you get in this chat anyways?**

**Nicolette: Um, I got an email about an app and I downloaded it…I was talking with someone else before I got here.**

**Nicolette: I’m so confused O.o**

**Yoosung: A clue!**

**707: !!**

**707: !!!!!!!**

**707: Another piece…**

**707: OF THIS PUZZLE.**

**ZEN: -_- I think they mean to ask who you were talking to before.**

**Nicolette: Dunno. Screen name was “Unknown”.**

 

Seven frowned. That wasn’t supposed to be possible, either. Everyone had to register to use the app, they couldn’t post without first setting up a screen name. This girl was bringing all sorts of inconceivable events into his world. He sighed, knowing that it would mean so much extra work later.

 

**Nicolette: It was his idea to come here. He said he needed to return a phone…**

_**V has entered the chatroom.** _

**Jumin: V. You’re here.**

**V: Yeah, Luciel told me what was going on.**

 

He wasn’t sure if it was necessary, but before V started inciting fear amongst everyone else, he wanted to put his mind at ease.

 

**707: V, found the owner of the device. She checks out.**

**707: She’s _cute_ lol**

 

Why had he typed that? He had meant to make a joke, but not _that_ one.

 

**ZEN: Really?!**

**Jumin: So it is a girl?**

**Nicolette: I already told you that. You been catfished before or something?**

**Jumin: I have never been catfishing.**

**Yoosung: OMG lolololol**

**ZEN: Seven, give us a picture.**

**Nicolette: You can see me right there on my icon!**

**ZEN: Yeah but Seven probably found lots of pictures.**

**Nicolette: What?! Where?!**

**ZEN: Seven, send one!**

**707: Nope.**

**707: Gotta respect her privacy.**

He sent an emoji of himself humming softly, a musical note dancing at the tip of his nose.

 

**707: By the way, I’m 707, hacker extraordinaire, 22 years young, and resident heart-throb.**

 

He had no idea why he typed that, either. He really had no idea why he would add that at the end of his sentence. Ever.

 

**Yoosung: Oh, really, huh?**

**Yoosung: Now you sound like Zen.**

**Nicolette: I’ve known Zen for five minutes and I can already tell Yoosung’s right.**

**ZEN: -_- I can’t help it that I was cursed with this face~**

**Nicolette: Oh yes, your beauty makes me fall to my knees and thank the light for revealing your radiance.**

**ZEN: *Finally someone gets me***

**Yoosung: >.> I don’t think she’s being serious. **

**Jumin: If she is then she’s blind.**

**ZEN: JERKFACE!! >:**

**Jaehee: V, did you have something you wanted to say?**

**V: Thank you, Jaehee. I do.**

**V: I’m sorry to have to drop in so suddenly, I hope everyone is well.**

**V: But from what I understand…**

**V: Nicolette has logged in from inside Rika’s apartment?**

**707: Correct.**

**Yoosung: She said she got the app through email. Did someone send it to her?**

**707: Trying to trace that now *sigh* taking a long time :s**

**Nicolette: It had no sender. The message disappeared after I clicked the link.**

**ZEN: You just opened a strange link from an email with no sender?**

**Nicolette: -_- I was bored on the bus.**

**Jumin: That is very careless.**

**V: Nicolette…**

**V: How did you get in the apartment?**

**Nicolette: That Unknown dude gave me the passcode.**

**Nicolette: I know this sounds crazy, but…it kind of seemed logical at the time to go in.**

**Yoosung: ???**

**Nicolette: Okay, so let me explain.**

**707: Storytime~**

**Nicolette: lol the story of Nicky’s bad life choices**

**707: O.O I HOPE IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING**

**Nicolette: TO BE DETERMINED**

**707: OH NO, HOW WILL I HANDLE THE SUSPENSE**

**Jaehee: Would you please stop interrupting her?**

 

Seven giggled to himself, absorbed in the interaction despite his best efforts.

 

**Jaehee: Please continue, Nicolette.**

**Nicolette: Right. So…**

**Nicolette: I got the email, and I was not having the greatest day, and I was bored…**

**Nicolette: So even though I knew it would probably kill my phone, the ad was so weird…**

**Nicolette: And I opened the link. The email disappeared, and I thought nothing had happened…**

**Nicolette: But then there was this app on my phone. I opened it, and it was this chatroom and this Unknown person was there.**

**Nicolette: He said he found a really expensive phone, and all it had was the app and an address on it, and he wanted to return it.**

**Nicolette: So I offered to go to the address and leave a note…**

**Yoosung: Wow, that was really nice of you.**

**Jaehee: And very careless -_-**

**Nicolette: lol I know, bad life choices, remember?**

**Nicolette: I got there, and I was gonna leave a note on the door**

**Nicolette: LIKE A NORMAL PERSON**

**Nicolette: But then he said he didn’t feel safe doing that, because someone might steal the note and try to steal the phone**

**Nicolette: WHICH WAS TOTALLY WEIRD but he was pretty persuasive**

**Nicolette: so he gave me the code…**

**Nicolette: Then I came in and he disappeared and then all of you were yelling at me.**

**707: AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER?**

**Nicolette: WITH RAINBOWS AND SUGAR SPRINKLES**

**Jaehee: Oh god there’s two of them now**

**Jumin: I don’t understand what they’re saying.**

**V: Luciel.**

**707: Yo?**

**V: Do you feel she is a threat?**

**Nicolette: ???!!!???**

**707: No. This Unknown person might be, but I think Nicky is innocent.**

**Nicolette: A threat to what?**

 

Seven leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes as the chat continued. He didn’t need to watch them explain to her that the apartment she was in belonged to a deceased woman, that it was full of confidential information that had to be protected at all costs. He also didn’t want to see when V told her to leave and never come back. It had been fifteen minutes since she had dropped into their world from out of nowhere, and already he wished that she could stay. She had turned everything upside down, completely changed the atmosphere. A falling star, come to light their way. There was no way V would want her around, though. This was trespassing of the highest degree, sacrilegious defilement of the shrine to Rika.

At least he didn’t want to trigger the failsafe anymore.

 

**V: Nicolette.**

**V: I know this is sudden, and strange…but…**

**V: I need to ask you to remain in the apartment for the time being.**

**Nicolette:…Come again?**

**V: If what you say is true…**

**V: Then I think this Unknown person sent you there for a reason. Until we know what that reason is, I don’t know if it’s safe for you to leave.**

**Nicolette: lol wut?**

 

Seven blinked. That was unexpected. What was V thinking? The conversation went on, and his eyes lost focus as he stared at the flickering lights. They were talking about Rika, and party planning, and what the RFA did. Now that V had swept in and declared her a guest, of sorts, they were trying to recruit her into the group. How strange, for a girl they had just met. He couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on what they were telling her, though. He watched the pretty lights and sighed, fidgeting with the cord to his headphones.

She was staying.

***

Had that really just happened?

Her heart was pounding so insistently that she thought it might break out of her chest and flop around on the floor for awhile. Had she really just been roped into planning a party? Had she just gotten a job by breaking and entering into someone’s apartment?

So much for anonymously leaving a note. Still, she wasn’t displeased with the outcome, although she did feel overwhelmed. V had said that she should avoid returning home, since they couldn’t be sure what this Unknown person wanted with her and why he sent her there. Yoosung was adamant that she fill Rika’s vacated position and help them plan a party for charity. Oh, and the strangest news on a night full of oddities, no one besides V and Seven knew where the apartment was located due to security reasons.

She looked around the room, folding her legs up onto the seat of the couch. She wanted to curl into a ball, to make herself as small as possible to avoid touching anything. Her phone buzzed on the cushion next to her, sending a tingling wave through her fingertips where her palm rested against the rich leather. She looked down at the screen, and it didn’t look like one of her normal text message notifications…but the sender read 707, the chat room designer. She grabbed her phone and slid it unlocked, the message opening the chatroom app automatically. _Very handy,_ she thought. They had said it would be able to do more than chat, but she hadn’t expected a separate private messaging system. She smiled as she read his words.

 

**707: Hiya Nicky. Listen, tell me if you know anything more about the hacker, I work for V so it’s okay. Oh, and welcome to the RFA.**

 

Welcome to the RFA. She had started this day out dejected, friendless, and with no job prospects in sight. Now she had a chatroom full of people that at least _seemed_ excited to get to know her, and she was getting texts welcoming her to the organization that she had just become a part of. She was a _part_ of something…she wasn’t sure how this would all work out, but so far they had made her feel like she belonged, and that meant more to her than she knew how to express.

 

**Nicolette: I’ll be sure to keep you updated if I remember anything else. And thanks for making me feel so welcome!~**

 

She set the phone down, laying across the couch. She was a bit surprised when it buzzed again. She hadn’t really been expecting another response.

 

**707: Anytime! If you need anything, you let me know. ~I can do anything!!~ AGENT 707 IS ON THE JOB.**

 

A laugh bubbled up out of her chest, slipping through her lips as they split in a wide grin.

 

**Nicolette: haha, what a strange way this has been to end my evening!**

**707: Ahhh *nods* *nods* Very strange indeed! You must think we’re all very weird!**

**Nicolette: Hm…maybe, but maybe I like weird.**

 

He sent back a string of chibi emojis that were all doing very excited dances, and she laughed again, feeling the knots in her chest from all her nerves start to loosen.

 

**707: if that’s true, then we’re very lucky to have found you!~**

**Nicolette: Haha, I think I might have found you! Your super secrets will be mine!**

**707: …**

 

He sent the dots, and then nothing else came. She set the phone down, laying back, trying to relax. She attempted to wait patiently for his reply, but after an agonizing minute had passed, she couldn’t stand it any longer.

 

**Nicolette: I’m only kidding!! Please don’t think I mean any harm.**

 

No response. She waited, counting out sixty seconds, pretending that his delayed response was just slow signal.

 

**Nicolette: Seven?**

 

Nothing.

 

**Nicolette: 707??**

 

More nothing. An endless expanse of nothing, spinning out of control with each second that passed where no response was given. Her heart stopped and climbed up through her lungs, sticking in the back of her throat like bad peanut butter.

 

**Nicolette: Oh, no, Seven I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you! Really, I’m just…**

 

She paused. What had she wanted to do? Certainly not offend him. She had let her guard down for a moment, forgetting how off-putting people found her and her sense of humor. There were many times where she would be the only one laughing in the room, and whenever that happened she had never felt more alone.

 

**Nicolette: I just wanted to make you laugh!**

 

Finally, blessedly, a grinning emoji popped up on her screen, and she let out the breath that had been burning like the sun in the middle of her chest.

 

**707: Phew!~~ I got scared that you would threaten me with all of your charming hacking skills!**

**Nicolette: OMG T_T You’re so mean, I thought you were never going to talk to me again!**

**707: Would that make you upset?**

**707: Haha, you were just sad that I might deprive you of the party!~**

She knew he couldn’t see it, but she stuck her tongue out at the screen as she wrote her reply.

**Nicolette: Well, that too…but talking to you has made me smile, so I’m not ready to stop yet, okay? :p**

**707: …**

 

Her heart dropped again at those three little dots. Barely more than a handful of pixels, but they could strike fear into the very center of her soul.

 

**Nicolette: Oh no, was that wrong too?**

**707: You are something different, Nicky. Strange girl. Like a puzzle that doesn’t quite make sense.**

**Nicolette: Haha, I’m sorry, I’ll try not to be so mysterious ^^**

**707: ~It’s okay~ I like mysterious.**

There was a brief pause, and she hadn’t typed more than “lol” before his next messages flooded the screen so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to respond.

 

**707: Anyways, I have to go, so much work!!**

**707: I hope I get to chat with you again soon~**

**707:Goodnight~~~^.^~~~**

 

She clicked her phone’s screen off and set it down on the couch, laying flat so that she could stare up at the ceiling. Her fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on her knee, and she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Finally she gave in, allowing herself to indulge even though she was afraid of being bothersome, and she snatched her phone back up and opened the app.

 

**Nicolette: Goodnight, and try not to work too hard, Seven. ^.^**

 

***

He closed his eyes, listening to the rain hitting the windowpane. It had started raining late, so he hadn’t been able to see the clouds, and it had surprised him when it began. He liked to listen to such things, especially when he had not had time to return to his garden. Too often his days drew on longer and longer, pulling him in directions away from the things he wanted to be with. Still, work was rewarding. Work was what filled the places in himself that drove others to madness. He wouldn’t change his path, despite his desire to brush his fingers across the velvet roses and inhale the sweet air.

Change. Many said that change was good, but Jumin was not sure that he liked this change. A strange girl fell out of the sky, like a drop of rain against his window. No, perhaps she was not rain. Perhaps she was the flake of snow amongst the rain, floating through the air where she did not belong.

Elizabeth the 3rd trilled a greeting before hopping in his lap, and he absently stroked the soft spots behind her ears. She purred, and the gentle rumble of her enjoyment mingled with the crystalline sound of the rain.

That girl. There was something about her…it bothered him. He couldn’t explain it.

She shined too brightly in her picture. It hurt his eyes. That must be it.

He closed his eyes, letting the sounds of nature outside wash over him, letting it wipe his mind clean of thoughts of the girl and her abrupt arrival.

What a strange way to end the evening.

 


	3. Unfair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven doesn't have a whole lot of self control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, writing 707 is difficult without all of those explosive emojis that he uses. Am I doing okay? Is the style coming across? >.>

There was something in front of him, but he couldn’t tell what it was. It moved with quick, frantic hops, bobbing to and fro across the green blur of grass. It was probably a bird, a robin based on the smear of red that occasionally worked its way through the haze and into his brain. It hadn’t made a sound since it had landed, with the exception of a flutter of feathers here and there. Or perhaps it had, and his hearing was going as well. Then he would really stumble through darkness, blind to the light of the sun and mired in regrets that weighed him down so much that he thought he might never be able to move again.

Nicolette…he had almost done it. He had almost demanded her as a sacrifice, because he had been so _sure_ that she had been sent by…

But no. Clean, Luciel had assured him, over and over again. He had apologized for his initial haste, apologized that he had jumped to conclusions, but he could tell by the sound in Luciel’s voice on the phone that he was still upset over it. It made him wish that he could have lost his hearing before the call, so that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

If Nicolette wasn’t a danger, then what was she? Nothing about this was right. The facts that they knew wrapped around his mind, constricting him, blinding him like the filmy fog that slowly crept across his eyes. The world was a storm, trapped as he was behind murk and grey, and even this girl was a thunderclap before the lightning. Or was she the tremor in the ground after the lightning had hit? Worse still, perhaps she was the lightning rod that would bring the storm to their doorsteps and usher it in.

_Oh, Rika…_

V stood, fumbling for his cane where he had left it beside the park bench, and at his movement the bird whistled in alarm and took flight, the muted thump of wings and feathers disturbing the air. He would have liked to watch it go, but by the time he turned his head he had already lost track of the movement.

_Fly away, with wings of love. Fly away, until you find freedom…_

***

_This_ was a bad idea.

He could tell himself that it was for security purposes, that he was just doing his job to protect the RFA, but it was a foolish lie. He flicked the screen again, scrolling down to read more of the conversations that he had missed. It wasn’t his job to smile when he saw her picture, or laugh when she had made a joke. It wasn’t his job to read her words over and over again, wondering what she would have said if he had been there.

Besides that, her info was spotless. She had no record of anything that could be threatening to them, not even a speck of dirt on her pristine history, aside from taking the last quarter off from school without much reason. His job had been done, he had vetted her completely. In truth, he had probable done too well, since he had pulled up every scrap of information he could find. He wanted to pour himself over the details, to memorize all of it and know as much about her as he could…but he had some self control. He had realized that he didn’t want to take her secrets from her, but wanted to _learn_ them. Which was, of course, a bad idea.

He sighed, looking over a chat where she had teased Zen mercilessly for being so vain. Surprisingly, neither Zen or Jaehee had taken offense, which was a feat Seven himself had never been able to achieve. She was too damned nice. Even her teasing felt more like a compliment than mockery.

He shook his head, rubbing a hand across his face and trying to return to his senses. These thoughts were going to be the end of him, and he didn’t have a place in his life for such things. It was out of the question. He knew better than to think this way, about anyone. He needed to put his nose down, to hide behind the dancing avatars and jokes on the computer screen, and be happy for the friends he had while they could last. He should not be spending his time wishing that he could talk to her more…

He grabbed a bag of chips, hoping to distract himself, tearing the seal with his teeth. The plastic popped open with more force than he had intended, and he was showered in a cascade of salty-sweet crumbs as the inertia of the action sent the chips sailing into the air. He cursed under his breath in Arabic and tried to wipe the crumbs away, wondering to himself if bad luck was something that infected someone, a disease that could never be cured.

His phone buzzed, and he felt his heart thump inside his chest. He closed his eyes. What a fool, jumping like a giddy idiot every time his phone beeped. _Hopeless._ He looked down at the screen, and when he saw her eyes peering up from her profile picture his heart stopped for what could have been a thousand years, a millenium, and he wouldn’t have noticed anything but her frozen gaze. He grabbed the device and thumbed open the screen, taking a deep breath.

 

**Nicolette: ~Seven, what are you up to? You haven’t been in chat in a bit.**

 

He stared at her name on the screen, looking at the letters like they were a series of runes that he couldn’t comprehend. _Nicolette._ So formal, so stuffy. It sounded like a girl who would prance around wearing elegant pearls, but she was nothing like that. By her name he would expect to find her draped off of Jumin’s arm at a fancy party, bedecked in jewels that he had purchased for her.

He brought up the keyboard and typed out a message before he had time to think about it.

 

**707: Miss me?? ;)**

 

It was a mistake, but the idea of her on Jumin’s arm made him feel like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop his fingers, couldn’t control his heartbeat.

He decided that he was going to call her Nicky from now on.

 

**Nicolette: ~Always!~ You’re not working yourself to death over there, are you, secret agent man?**

**707: Oh-ho! I can’t tell you, it’s top secret!**

**707: But there’s always**

**707: too**

**707: much**

**707: work.**

**707: Work work work. I’m fated to work to death!**

**707: BUT do not weep for my destiny, because I, 707, will make the best of it!**

**Nicolette: Well, I think you just accidentally answered my question, Mr. top secret.**

**707: !!!**

**707: A clever spy to get all my secrets from me!**

**707: I was doomed from the start!**

 

He typed in the shortcut and sent his crying emoji, the little avatar pulling at the strings of his headphones. It was hard not to smile as he waited for her reply.

 

**Nicolette: haha, I’m not nearly clever enough to catch you, I’m sure. But…**

**Nicolette: please don’t work yourself to death, because then I wouldn’t get to talk to you anymore.**

 

He stared at the phone. No, he wasn’t staring, he was gaping at it, his jaw hanging open like she had revealed some secret long lost to time and space. Why would she say that? Why did it have to make his heart race like that?

Before he could respond, a picture popped up on his screen, and for a moment or an eternity, he couldn’t tell which, he lost all coherent thought.

It was a picture of her sitting in the apartment, upside down on the couch so that her head was hanging over the edge and her feet were flush against the wall. She was wearing a faded blue flannel shirt, the buttons undone so that the sides hung loosely around her curves. Beneath it she wore a black t-shirt, the hem crumpled around her waist as gravity tried to pull it downward. On the front of the shirt there was a cartoonish picture of a cat using a flamethrower while riding a t-rex, and he chuckled to himself. He could see the frayed edges of her shorts where they met her thighs, and her bare legs were folded at an angle so that she could hold her feet to the wall…feet that were clad in ludicrous, fluffy cat slippers.

 

**Nicolette: I’m texting you upside down, it feels like I’m floating.**

 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Crimson hair draped across the floor, skewed in strange directions as it splayed out from the top of her head. She had a smile that looked like a giggle, and there was a gleam of innocent mischief in her eyes. He tapped the photo and hit save mechanically, automatically. She had sent it, so that was okay, right? No. He should go right now and delete it. He should delete it so he couldn’t look at it again, couldn’t be so…transfixed.

She made him feel like _he_ was floating.

 

**707: lol you’ll get dizzy with your head floating the wrong way like that!**

**707: Don’t pass out~**

**Nicolette: lol if I pass out will you come save me?**

**Nicolette: Secret Hero Seven, please rescue me from my floatiness!!~**

 

He laughed, a breathy sound that barely made it out of his lungs as a pang of sadness crawled across his heart.

 

**707: !!! Seven Zero Seven to the Rescue!!!**

 

He sent his crying emoji once more, and immediately started typing the next message.

 

**707: But I can’t go there… _confidential!!!_**

**707: I’ll be executed for going! What am I to do???**

**707: Let my sweet, floating Nicky drift away, or sacrifice my life to save her?**

**707: THERE IS ONLY ONE ANSWER!!**

 

He frowned. It was a joke, or it was supposed to be, but it was far too close to the truth for his comfort.

 

**Nicolette: NO!!!**

**Nicolette: Don’t you date put yourself in danger for me!**

 

Another picture popped up on the screen, and this time she was sitting upright. Her hair stuck out in every direction, frizzed and disheveled where she hadn’t fixed it before righting herself. Her flannel and t-shirt had slipped off of one of her shoulders, revealed below her graceful neck. She was pouting into the camera.

 

**Nicolette: See? No more floating~**

 

He saved that picture, too. His thoughts raced out of his control when he looked at her, beyond the realm of reason and sanity. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and tuck it back in place. He wanted to straighten her flannel shirt, carefully and slowly, so he could feel its warmth from being next to her skin. He wanted to bite her lower lip and taste her pout with his tongue.

He brought his hand up and rapped his knuckles against his temple, hard enough to sting. _Idiot._

 

**707: Hooray! Safe and sound! Thank you for saving us both!**

**707: My hero~**

**Nicolette: HA I’m nobody’s hero, but thank you <3**

**Nicolette: *sigh* I should stop bothering you and get back to work.**

 

Common sense told him that he should just say goodbye and let her go. That he should return his attention to the long list of things that he still needed to get done before he could get some sleep. That he should throw his phone out the window and never pick it up again.

He did none of those things.

 

**707: IMPOSSIBLE**

**707: It’s impossible for you to ever be a bother…**

**707: what are you working on?**

**Nicolette: School projects -_- I’m on break, but I still have so many T_T**

**707: What are you in school for?**

**Nicolette: Don’t you already know? ;p**

 

He felt a rush of shame spread across his cheeks, and he hated himself for what he did and what he could do, how he could invade her privacy whenever V commanded, whenever he decided he wanted to.

 

**707: Uhm…well, uh, I might have seen something about music. >.>**

**Nicolette: ~sneaky spy~**

**707: Forgive me!!**

**Nicolette: Always!**

**Nicolette: Besides, I know you were just trying to keep everyone safe. Because you’re the hero~ ^^**

 

He sent the crying emoji once more, and he wondered how many times he would have to use it now that she was around. She made him want to cry, but for reasons that also made him want to sing and dance. He was so confused.

 

**707: You’re too kind!**

**707: You shouldn’t forgive me so easily**

**707: for prying into your life.**

**Nicolette: Well, I would have just told you if you asked, so it doesn’t matter.**

**Nicolette: I’m very comfortable sharing with you.**

**707: ;) it’s my secret agent charm.**

**Nicolette: haha, or that irresistible smile ;)**

 

He wanted to take the phone and flush it down the toilet, so that he could keep it out of his cursed hands. His heart was going to break out of his chest and flap around the room, he was sure of it. Oh, he was going to be in so much trouble if he kept letting things go in this direction. Why did she have to be so impossibly, infuriatingly…just…so… _her?_

 

**707: So you study music?**

 

_Stop it, Seven. Just stop, tell her you have to sleep, or work, or move to Antarctica to become one with the penguins. Anything but learning more about her._

 

**Nicolette: Yep! I know that a lot of people say it’s not a lucrative career, but I can’t imagine doing something every day if it doesn’t make me happy.**

**Nicolette: That’s probably childish, but I can’t help it. *shrugs***

**707: I think it’s brave.**

**707: Brave Nicky, pursuer of dreams!!**

 

_I would give anything to be so brave…_

 

**Nicolette: haha, hardly, I’m terrified of failure almost every day.**

**Nicolette: I’m always so behind the others -_-**

**707: I bet you’re better than you think~**

**Nicolette: Why, Seven, you sneaky spy, did you watch one of my videos??? Hmmmm???? *eyebrow waggle***

 

Videos? He hadn’t. He hadn’t payed enough attention to the social media things once he had learned she was in the clear. He had actively avoided staring at the pictures, like some basement dwelling creep. But now… he _hadn’t_ seen the videos, but in this moment there was nothing that he wanted to do more than remedy that situation.

 

**707: Videos?**

**707: I would never invade the privacy of a superstar like that! ;)**

**707: I only needed to check to be sure you were clear…**

**707: I didn’t look at everything I found.**

**Nicolette: Oh…um, well**

**Nicolette: Thank you, for that.**

**Nicolette: Of course, you wouldn’t be complimenting me like that if you had seen one!**

**Nicolette: Especially since you all know Zen.**

**Nicolette: I’m very mediocre, especially compared to him -_-**

 

He tapped his finger against the side of his phone. Nobody else in the RFA even knew that she was a music major, because she hadn’t talked about it to them yet. Maybe he should do for her what he had done for Zen…but would she like that? Would it be too much? When he had leaked Zen’s video online, it had blown up, and he was now on his way to a very productive acting career because of it. Somehow he thought Nicky might not want a life like that, though.

 

**707: I don’t think you could be mediocre at anything if you tried, my shooting star! ^^**

**707: Maybe someday you’ll let me watch the videos, and then**

**707: I’ll know for sure and tell you how wonderful you are.**

 

_Damnit._ That was too much. That was more than he had meant to say. What was wrong with him? He knew better, a thousand times over he knew better. He didn’t deserve to compliment the ground beneath her feet, and worse still it was reckless to get close to anyone, _especially_ her…but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He was drawn into her, as though she really were a star, with a gravitational field that caught him in its clutches and wouldn’t let him go. He was doomed to crash, doomed to hit the ground and explode into a fiery ball of destruction that would hurt them all…but still he kept waiting for her next message, still he kept sending his reply, still he kept saying what he felt rather than what he _should_ be saying.

He wanted to believe it was harmless fun, just like it was with the rest of the RFA, but it didn’t feel the same.

 

**Nicolette: You could watch them now, if you wanted to.**

**Nicolette: ~just don’t expect to be impressed~**

 

He had pulled one up in the browser before he could even think properly about it, disregarding everything else on his desktop so that he could give the video the maximum amount of screen space.

He was going to miss his deadlines if he kept wasting time.

He hit play anyways.

The world around him dimmed as the screen went black, the opening of the video fading in from darkness. Gradually she came into view, wearing a lavender summer dress with lace that brushed against her thighs. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun, an errant strand slipping from the top to rest against her cheek. She turned and said something to the piano player beside her, but the mic on the camera hadn’t picked it up. Somebody adjusted it, and the arm of an unknown person was thrust in the center of the image for a minute, giving Nicky a thumbs up. After that, he could hear it perfectly when she cleared her throat, straightening her posture and throwing back her shoulders. She smiled, and it was such a nervous little thing perched below her nose that he wished he could have been there to cheer and wave, to give her all of the courage that he could impart with his exuberance.

And then she started to sing, and pieces of his soul shattered and fell, toppling to the floor. Between the cracks, between the holes that opened up, a torrent of emotions flooded through and swallowed him whole. Longing, _yearning,_ a need to take her face in his hands and hold her close. The song was beautiful, heart wrenchingly so, but also unspeakably sad, so that he could hardly stand it. He never wanted her to stop, but he wanted to fill her with light so that every note that left her tongue was joy instead of pain.

He didn’t know what she was singing, the unfamiliar sounds stringing together to make words he didn’t recognize. The song was in another language…Italian, maybe? The title of the video was “Sola Cordis, as performed by Nicolette”, but no further credits were given. Listening to her, he thought that the piece must be about tragedy, about the end of the world and the loss of light. The piano accompanying her seemed to fade into the background, becoming nothing more than the whisper of wind as her voice filled his headphones. It was low, and rich, but with a delicate lilt that made each note seem as light as air. When he heard it, he thought of the starlit sky, of purple flowers in the moonlight, of candles casting flickering shadows against velvet curtains. Of fingers laced together, warm against a snow-filled evening..

He blinked, and a tear worked its way out of the corner of his eye, sliding down his cheek. He reached up, wiping it away with the palm of his hand, then held up his fingers to stare at them. He blushed, feeling ridiculous.

The song ended, and he did a quick search for the lyrics. He had to scroll through several sites, as the song was not considered popular even by classical music standards, but when he found them his mouth tilted in a lopsided grin. It was Latin. Somehow that made perfect sense, for her to sing something so sad in a dead language. He hit play on the song again, and as her voice provided the emotion and the melody, his mind followed along with the translation so that he could understand what the song meant.

 

“The sky is filled with stars,

But they are far away.

I reach, with hands still shaking,

But my fingers wither and die.

My heart still rests wide open,

Waiting for love to flow in,

But love is like the stars above,

And they are far away.

God’s light shines in the darkness,

But it does not reach my eyes.

Lonely heart, lonely soul,

Lonely stars will fall.

The sacred will find the light,

But the sky will never hold my love,

And I will always fall.”

 

More tears slid from the sides of his eyes, but this time it didn’t feel silly. Despite the fact that he hadn’t understood the words before, she had conveyed the meaning so beautifully that it was like it had been tattooed on his heart. Now that he had read the lyrics, he felt like the song was a part of him, like she had plucked a piece of his mind and wound it around a musical note. Unfurled, it had become this wonder, a hymn that spoke of things he never said aloud, but were always there, beneath the surface and silent.

The video finished its second play through, and he drummed his fingers on the edge of his keyboard, an idea forming in his head that he wasn’t sure about yet. Part of him wanted to share it, immediately, with everyone that he could make watch it. Another part of him, a darker part, a lonelier part, wanted to keep it all to himself. If people knew about it, knew how perfect sorrow could sound coming from her throat, then maybe she wouldn’t have time to lay upside down on a couch, chatting with him.

He shook his head, his glasses getting knocked askew with the vehemence of the action. She wasn’t his, he reminded himself. She could never _be_ his.

He slid his mouse pointer across the screen and opened up an email, adding everyone from the RFA to the send list. He dropped the link into the body of the message, put “WATCH NOW AFDSGA’KOAG;UNGJAKHD;;GVHUAK” in the subject line, and hit send before he could come up with any other ludicrous ideas. Then he picked his phone back up, and opened their conversation once more.

 

**707: You’re**

**707: A**

**707: M**

**707: A**

**707: Z**

**707: I**

**707: N**

**707: G**

**707: Seriously, I was moved to tears.**

**707: TEARS.**

**707: You must be an angel**

**707: sent from above**

**707: to be so good.**

**707: <3<3<3<3**

 

He finished his rave review and sat back in his chair, waiting for her response. He counted by thirty seconds, and still nothing came. He wondered if she had gone to bed while he had been messing around with the video…but no, it was still only 9pm, and she had mentioned before that she was a bit of a night owl. Had he offended her somehow?

Just as he was beginning to consider calling her, another picture popped up in the chat, and his heart stopped for the hundredth time in the past two days. It was similar to her profile picture, in that she was hiding half her face behind a pillow, and only the bridge of her nose upward was visible. What made it different was the way her hair tumbled over her brow, so that her gaze was veiled through ruby waves. It was different in that she didn’t look mischievous in this one, but sheepish, a glimmer of flustered enjoyment trapped in the green flecks of her eyes. Most importantly, however, it was different because in this picture she was blushing, a pink hue spreading across her face like spring roses scattered over snow.

Nothing and no one had ever looked so good with a blush.

Again, his mind wandered to places that it shouldn’t be allowed to go, places that he should be ashamed of. Was she smiling behind that pillow? Frowning? Biting her lip? _Whispering his name? Would this be what she looked like after kissing her?_

 

**Nicolette: You’ve made me blush~**

**707: <3<3 GAH. **

**707: YOU CAN’T**

**707: SEND ME THINGS**

**707: LIKE THAT**

**707: TOO MUCH CUTE**

**707: OVERLOAD**

**707: error error error**

**707: You can’t be that beautiful it isn’t fair.**

 

Damn. _Again_ , that had not been what he had meant to say. It was _true,_ but not something that he had wanted to admit. He scrolled up and looked at the picture again, saving it to the folder with the rest of them, a treasure trove of things he shouldn’t have. It _was_ unfair how gorgeous she looked to him. Unfair to him, to her. Unfair to the stars in the sky, that just couldn’t compete.

 

**Nicolette: *blush deepens***

**Nicolette: Seven…I…**

 

He held his breath, his brain coming up with a hundred different ways for her next sentence to end. _Seven I think you’re cute. Seven I want you. Seven I’m yours._ This couldn’t be happening to him. He was the lone wolf, the stranger that nobody understood, and yet somehow she had shown up, blocking his sky like the moon, and in just two days he was ready to howl and grovel at her feet. These kinds of things weren’t supposed to happen outside of books and fairy tales.

He knew that he couldn’t hear whatever she had to say next, even if it was one of the things he wished it to be. He had to stop this. He had to grow up and stop behaving like a selfish child, stealing her smiles when he knew he’d only turn them to tears someday.

 

**707: Lovely angel**

**707: I have to go~**

**707: Work is calling *ring ring ring***

**707: also I sent the video**

**707: to ALL the members of the RFA**

**707: Hope you don’t mind**

**707: sayonara!**

 

He typed the messages with the speed of a hacker looking for an escape, and when he had finished he turned his phone off and placed it face down on the desk. He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, wishing that his chest didn’t feel so tight. What was he doing?

And how could he make it stop?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Latin lyrics to her song, in case you wanted to know:
> 
> Caelum repletur sidera  
> Sed usque non sunt.  
> Ad me, et excutit manus adhuc,  
> Et aruerunt, et digitos meos mori.  
> Apertis requiescit cor meum,  
> Exspecto amoris influeret  
> Sed caritas est astris,  
> Et qui procul sunt.  
> Deus lux in tenebris lucet,  
> Sed non perveniunt oculorum meorum.  
> Sola cor, anima sola,  
> Gloria stellae cadent,  
> Sacri invenies lucem  
> Sed caeli nunquam amica  
> Et erit semper.
> 
> Also, she's an alto. ^_^


	4. Blushing Suits You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin appreciates music.

She thought about sending something back to him, but Seven seemed like he had been in a hurry to leave, and she didn’t want her welcome to be worn thin, like an old shoe.

Aside from that, she was now in a blind panic over the fact that he had sent her video to the other RFA members. He hadn’t even told her which _one_ before he’d distributed it! She hated that he had just left it hanging, a big dollop of the unknown dropped in the middle of her lap. Nothing made her more uncomfortable than vagueness. Not that it would really change anything. The only video she didn’t want anyone to see ever again had already been taken down and scrubbed from every site that it had ever been on, so she didn’t have to worry about that. Still, how could he send it off without asking, after all that chatting about respecting privacy?

She couldn’t say that she was mad, exactly. After all, his reason for sending it had been that he liked it so much. That didn’t help her nerves, knowing that everyone she had met over the past two days would be seeing it. They had only just started getting to know each other, so they could judge her harshly if she didn’t make a good impression. The videos would not have been her first choice in doing that, obviously, or she would have sent them out herself, or tossed them in the chat that first day when everyone had barraged her with selfies. She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She did have to admit, though, that had she been pressed for a plan on making good impressions, she would have drawn a total blank. Maybe the videos were a good of a way as any to let the cat out of the bag about her major. Yoosung had been pestering her about it all day, anyways.

Maybe Seven knew that, and had just been doing her a favor.

Her phone dinged, and she grabbed it, greedily opening the screen and waiting to see that familiar shock of red hair and the glint in those glasses when his profile picture popped into view. She was surprised when that was not the sight that greeted her. Instead she found herself looking into the dark grey eyes of the suited wonder, Jumin’s stern jawline enough to intimidate her despite the fact that she was pretty sure he was smiling. Maybe. It could have been a trick of the light.

**Jumin: You have a very precious gift.**

She blushed all over again, her cheeks boiling because she knew exactly what he was talking about. Jumin may not have been as enthusiastic as Seven, but she had the feeling that this was high praise coming from the sullen businessman.

**Nicolette: Thank you, Jumin. I** **’m sorry that 707 just sent it to you like that, I hope it wasn’t troublesome.**

She shifted in her seat so that she could straighten her shoulders. She felt like she had to have impeccable posture and keep track of all her grammar lessons when she talked to him. He had come from such a different world than her own…she tried not to think of him as stuffy, because that seemed unkind, but she did wonder if he ever relaxed. He looked like he could use about six vacations, and he talked like he needed to retire. Or at the very least let Jaehee retire.

**Jumin: Not at all. I was honored to be able to see it.**

**Jumin: You have much more talent than that arrogant, narcissistic hack.**

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. Was he trying to compliment her, or insult someone else?

**Nicolette: You mean Zen?**

**Jumin: Of course.**

**Jumin:** **…**

**Jumin: I just realized how that must have seemed. I** **’m sorry, I did not mean to compare you, that is impolite.**

**Jumin: What I mean to say is that I find your voice very moving.**

She smiled, feeling genuine gratitude for him this time. He could be cold, but when she talked to him she could see flashes of someone warmer hiding underneath. Although Zen would probably accuse her of hallucinating if she admitted it.

**Nicolette: Thank you. You** **’re too kind, you’re making me blush.**

She hit send, and waited. Nothing but silence met her in reply. She let her phone fall flat in her lap, tilting her head back to look up at the ceiling. The light at the top of the room was surrounded by a crystalline cover, and small rainbow patterns flickered on the walls as the bulb within shone through. She found it relaxing, to look at it, or to gaze out the window at the busy city so far below. As abrupt as it had been, she found that she liked it there the more she stayed…although that could have had something to do with the lack of rent.

Her life had changed a lot, it seemed.

She lost herself in thought, reflecting on the past that she was thrilled to leave behind. She had closed her eyes, thinking that perhaps she would fall asleep where she sat because she was calm and comfortable. When she received another message she was dislodged from the moment completely, and she jumped when the notification alarm when off and the phone vibrated against her leg. The device escaped, falling onto the floor and skidding halfway under the couch. She slid forward off the couch, connecting bottom first onto the carpet, and fumbled to grab the phone. 

**Jumin: I imagine that is a very beautiful scene. You blushing.**

**Jumin: I wish that I could see it.**

She felt her heartbeat throbbing in her ears, making her head feel heavy and off kilter. That had been…unexpected. Men like Jumin didn’t normally give her the time of day, but somehow he had just…was he flirting? He was so out of her league it wasn’t even funny, there could be no way it meant anything more than a polite compliment. She had received so many of those in the last fourty-eight hours. Everyone that she had met had been so kind, and welcoming. It was as though she had been traveling in space alone all her life, drifting amongst the emptiness, and without warning she had crash landed on her home planet. She felt like she had finally found the place where she belonged.

This was insane. How could she care about these people so quickly? How was it they had become a part of her life so that her day was filled with their conversations?

A very small, very sad voice in the back of her head reminded her that it was because everyone she had ever loved before now had left her. It was easy to cling to something so new when it was all that she had. Space was cold and vast. Any warmth could seem like home…if there was enough desperation inside her to make it so.

She used her fingers to brush her hair back into place, straightening out her shirt and trying to look as presentable as possible. She wished that she was wearing something nicer, but she had yet to make it out to buy extra clothes, and she hadn’t exactly stepped off the bus with a high class wardrobe change tucked in her ragged bag. She would have to work with what she had on, and she hoped he wouldn’t judge her for it. To ensure that she had the needed effect, she thought about the compliments that she had received about her singing, trying to bring back the blush that Jumin had spoke of.

_You can_ _’t be that beautiful it isn’t fair._

She felt her cheeks heat up again, the blush spreading down the sides of her neck. Well, it wasn’t exactly what she had meant to think about, but it had the intended effect. She skimmed a mental checklist, making sure that her posture was as impeccable as though she were performing and that she remembered to smile at least a little. She held up her phone and snapped the picture, then she pushed the little arrow icon in the corner and sent it straight to Jumin.

For a long time, an eternity of minutes, there was no reply. When her phone buzzed at her again she let out a shriek of surprise, clapping a nervous hand over her mouth to silence herself. _Get a grip, dummy._

**Jumin: Blushing suits you.**

As she read his words, her greatest fear was that she was about to burst into flames and set this lovely apartment on fire. So intense was the rush of giddy embarrassment that she was sure she was melting, dissolving into a puddle of confused excitement where she would just lay on the floor and live the rest of her days as a gelatinous blob. That would certainly make party planning difficult.

Jumin, of all people in this weird, strange, and abruptly changing world, had just paid her a real and genuine compliment. Was this because of her voice? Had her singing really been worth this much attention? _Which one had they seen?_

She was about to text him back and ask when her phone starting going off in her hands, the ring tone emitting the sonorous tones of a cello performing Brahms Sonata no. 1. She blinked stupidly at it for a few seconds, Jumin’s picture popping up on the screen again to gaze disdainfully at her, with that strange tilt to his mouth that could be a smile or a frown or a mysterious rune carved by the ancient Greeks into a pensive statue. She felt like there was a hamster wheel in her brain somewhere that had stopped running, and she just couldn’t compute what this sound matched with this picture meant to her. _A call? From Jumin?_

She managed to come to her senses before it went to voicemail, but only just.

“H-hello?” the tremor in her voice made her flush with embarrassment all over again. _Yes, Nicky, sound like a terrified dove, that_ _’ll be great. The very important business man will be very impressed with your timidness._

“Good evening.” His voice was deeper than she had expected, and smooth. He had the dulcet towns of a finely tuned bass, the music in his words drawn out by the long, slow pull of an elegant bow. “I apologize for disturbing you…but…” he hesitated, a hiccup in his words that felt like a rest in the measure, a beat that wasn’t supposed to be there but was added in by an overworked orchestra. “I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear how you speak, after hearing your lovely song.”

She swallowed, but it didn’t do any good, because it seemed as though someone had stuffed cotton down her throat when she wasn’t looking. “Jumin, I…I don’t really know what to say.”

“Hm.” It was a curt sound, and she wasn’t sure if it was disapproval or a laugh, or perhaps somewhere in between. “Tell me about your singing.”

It was a command more than a request, and while part of her took umbrage at that fact, the rest of her was still dazed enough to comply without pause. “Um, well…what do you want to know?”

“When did you begin?”

She laughed, dispelling some of the tension that was choking the air around her. “Oh I’ve always been singing, I used to pick up spoons in the kitchen while my father was washing dishes, and I would parade around serenading the cutlery. If you mean in a professional capacity, though,  then my answer would be about four years ago. I’m in school for violin performance, but I’ve picked up piano and singing along the way when I met…my professor.”

She had almost slipped, and she closed her eyes, willing the memories back, willing her brain to forget his name and everything he had ever told her. _Please don_ _’t ask about it, please don’t ask about it, please don’t ask about it…_

“Do you enjoy music?” he paused, and laughed softly, a brush of wind against her ear. “I’m sorry, that’s a pointless question. You obviously do. I can tell by the passion on your face in the video.”

“Thank you?” she hadn’t meant it to be a question, but she found herself very confused by everything that was going on this evening. Her whole world felt like a question. “Hey, Jumin…which video did Seven send you guys?”

“There are more?”

“Um, a few…I just, he never said which one he watched and sent, he just sort of disappeared on me earlier.” She wrinkled her nose, wondering if she should have tried calling him to find out more about what he had sent. It wouldn’t have been a terrible excuse to keep their conversation going, either…

“He is often like that. To answer your question, you were singing Sola Cordis. I was unfamiliar with that piece, but I am interested in finding more from that composer. I found the melody both haunting and soothing.”

“Oh, you won’t find any. The composer only did a handful of partial arias before passing away.” So that was the one that they had seen. She was glad. Of all her performances, that had been her personal favorite. Part of it was that the story of the composer had moved her, and so she had fallen in love with her songs. The artist taken her life at a fairly young age after suffering an emotional trauma which remained a mystery according to all the accounts of her story. They had found the few snippets of songs, incomplete arias and a piano work that seemed to be missing pages, as though they had been torn out or lost. Most people payed little attention to the work, but Nicky had heard one bar of the music and been enraptured. The more she learned about it, the more she loved it.

That wasn’t why she loved that particular performance, however. She could recall that day with an unnatural clarity, as though if she concentrated she could relive it whenever she chose to. She had stood in front of the piano and faced the small section of students that were there to record the session. Her best friend had been holding the camera, fiddling with a bunch of buttons and knobs before she gave her the go ahead. Lea was always better with technology than she had been…

Nicky closed her eyes, forgetting that part of the memory. She closed her eyes just as she had that day, and she remembered what it had felt like. She had loved that performance because when she had opened her mouth, it hadn’t just felt like she was singing. It had felt like she had become a conduit, pulling something from the hidden depths of the world and bringing it out into the light, sharing not just the melody but the true meaning of the song with those gathered.

It had been the only time that she had gotten perfect marks on a performance.

“I would very much like to hear you sing in person, sometime.” Jumin’s voice broke through her reverie, yanking her back into the present with the force of a cannonball. She took a moment to remind herself that it was all in the past, gone and far away from her. The good and the bad.

She cleared her throat just as she cleared her mind. “Oh, well…I can hardly say no to you, can I?”

“Why?” it was a simple question, and she detected genuine surprise in his voice.

“Um…well…I suppose it’s because you’re so, ah…how do I put this….”

“Please, you don’t have to be afraid to be honest. I value honesty.”

She smirked. “Kind of you.”

“I try.” He sounded sardonic, and she could practically hear his eyebrow raising.

She laughed in spite of herself. “Jumin Han, was that a joke?”

“Perhaps.” His chuckle was whiskey on the rocks, amber and fire at the back of his throat. “Are you avoiding my question?”

“Perhaps.” She smiled, her voice lighting up so that the expression shone through her words. “I don’t know, though. You feel very…demanding isn’t quite the word I’m looking for. But I feel as though I wouldn’t want to disappoint you by refusing.”

“Hm.” He paused, and all she heard was a long stretch of silence on the other side of the line. She attempted to remain patient, but he was so formal and stony that it was difficult for her to read him, especially without being able to see his face. She wasn’t sure if she was irritating him, amusing him, or boring him. Just when she thought she could bear it no longer, he spoke again, “I will admit the idea of you being unable to refuse me is not an unpleasant one.”

She giggled, tittering like a nervous foal. “I don’t quite know how to respond to that.”

“Your laughter is more than enough.” His voice changed, a subtle alteration, a sudden softness presenting like an anomaly that shouldn’t have been. When he spoke again, his timbre returned to normal, and she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. “I should go, you must be tired. Thank you for talking to me. Get some rest, and I will talk to you later.”

“Goodnight.”

The click in her ear announced his departure, and she turned off her screen, cradling the phone against her chest. What an odd night this had turned out to be. Things had certainly changed. She couldn’t say that she wasn’t uneasy about some of it…but…she couldn’t remember smiling this much in a long time, even before everything had fallen apart in her life. Was this what it felt like, to belong somewhere?

_You must be an angel._

She stood, standing on her tiptoes and reaching her hands to the ceiling, stretching with a smile wide across her face. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.


	5. My Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yoosung accidentally incites a panic.

The sun flashed through the gaps in the buildings, casting long rays of light on the concrete below his feet. His shoes, polished to a fine sheen, clicked against the ground as he walked, and his jacket rustled in the wind that was threatening to carry winter in early. It was a brilliant day for a walk, and he enjoyed the brisk temperature and the riot of colors as the leaves dressed for their curtain call before the snow would come to blanket them in dreary silence. Zen smiled at a group of women as he walked by, moving quicker when one of them squealed so loudly the that he had almost missed Nicky telling him that his hair looked like spun moonlight.

She was kidding, of course, but he would take the compliment all the same.

“Oh, really then?” he could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line, and he smiled wider. “Do you want another selfie? I could take one just for you.”

She gasped theatrically. “Oh no, you shouldn’t, I would perish of a heart attack with all certainty!”

He imagined her placing a hand on her chest, posing for the dramatic as she lounged around in her bed, her hair tussled from sleep. It was a sweet thought. “You’re being very sarcastic, I’m hurt.”

“Look in the mirror, you’ll perk right up.” She chuckled wickedly, and he couldn’t help but laugh in return, the burst of breath sending a cloud of fog into the chilled air.

“Well, my face does have curative properties. Perhaps you should tell me your address, and I can pop over and show you in person.”

“Ha!” she sounded triumphant, as though he had made some slip up in a complicated game of chess. “Not a chance, pretty boy.”

“Oh come on. You know you want to meet me.” He lowered his voice to a sultry rumble, cupping a hand around the receiver lest she miss his next words. “Just imagine all the things we could do _in person._ ”

He was was kidding, of course, because he could tell when a woman had no interest, but it seemed that meaningless flirtation was the form their friendship had taken.

“Gross.”

He stopped in his tracks, frowning into the phone. “Gross?! Okay, I’m _actually_ a little offended at that one.”

“Oh hush, you know you’re attractive, you don’t need me to confirm it for you.” He heard a soft rustle on the other end of the line, and he imagined her curling up deeper in her blanket.

He resumed his stroll, shaking his head. “Still, why gross? If  you find me attractive, how can I also be gross?”

She sighed, as though it were all so simple and she couldn’t believe she had to explain. “First, lover boy, I didn’t say that _I_ find you attractive, just that you were objectively attractive. I think there’s a difference. Second, you’re like…a really shiny older brother, or something. So: gross.”

“Hm.” He chuckled, inordinately pleased with her explanation. “Big brother, huh? I don’t believe you. You secretly love me, I’m sure you’ve got my name written in a notebook with little hearts draw around it.”

“I don’t, but I would bet my life that Jaehee does.” Her tone was wicked, and he could feel her leering at him from across the city, or wherever it was the apartment was located. It was strange to think that he could have walked right past her in the middle of their conversation, without ever having known.

He cleared his throat, wondering why his cheeks felt hot when he thought about Jaehee having a notebook with his name on it. “You’re out of your mind. She’s way too practical for that.”

“Yeah, uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that.” She hummed quietly to herself, as pleased as that damn cat Jumin always blabbered on about.

Thinking about Jaehee was making him feel strange, so he opted to change the subject. “So, how’s life after becoming the resident singer extraordinaire?”

“Eh? Isn’t that your title?”

“Not when you come in and steal the show. I think you nearly gave Seven a heart attack.”

There was a profound silence on the other line, and Zen smirked, knowing that his comment had promoted the desired effect.

“…you think so?”

Zen wasn’t sure how clear it had been to anyone else, but he knew how to recognize flirting when he saw it, and Seven and Nicky had been approaching some sort of new and amazing flirtation critical mass by this point. If he was wrong about their feelings for each other, Zen would quit his acting career and become a mechanic as penance. It would be awful for his nails.

“Mmhmm. He did send us that email. He _demanded_ we watch it. In all caps, in fact.”

She sighed, and he could hear her flustered breath loud and clear, a flutter that must reflect her racing heart. “That’s just…he was just being nice.”

“Uh huh.”

“What? What is that tone for?” he could just picture her, mock-glaring into the phone, narrowing her eyes as she tried to pretend she didn’t know exactly what he was talking about. He hadn’t even seen all of her face yet, but he was confident that he knew exactly what she looked like in this moment.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” His spoke with the innocent lilt of a man that had done nothing wrong, ever in his life. He paused, just long enough so that she would relax, and then he pounced on the rest of his sentence. “I’m just so heartbroken to see you pining after another man, that’s all.”

“Pining?!” Her voice rose an entire octave in the middle of the word. “I’m not…I didn’t even…It’s totally not…” she sighed again, a hiss of exasperation. “Dammit Zen, you’re the worst.”

“I’m the best and you know it.”

She sniffed in feigned offense. “I’ll admit to nothing.”

He laughed, imagining her blushing and furious and probably thinking of Seven even as she tried not to. If there was anything Zen knew how to do, it was to get women riled up, one way or another.

He crossed the street, looking up at the golden letters nailed to the side of the marble building, most of it hidden from the sun by the rest of downtown. He sighed, knowing that he would have to go in there and put on all of his charm again. If he wanted this role, he was going to have to make them all fall in love with him.

Luckily he was very good at that.

“Ah, Nicky my love, I’m afraid I’m at the building. I hate to leave you bereft of my lavish attentions, but I’ll have to go in and get to work.”

“Mkay, have fun. Send a selfie to Jaehee before you go.”

He blushed even as his own quip leaped off the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, you send one to Seven first.”

She laughed, openly and melodically, like everything that came out of her was music. “Whatever pretty boy. Knock em’ dead in the meeting.”

“Thanks kid, you have a good day.”

He hung up, his heart feeling lighter than it had when he had crawled his way out of bed that morning. She was a strange girl, but he was very much attached to her already, and he was glad that she had found her way to them, however mysterious it had been. For better or worse, she was one of them now, and somehow he had become big brother Zen in the process.

As he opened the door and strolled into the building, he had to admit he didn’t hate that idea at all.

***

Sunlight poured through the window, bathing the bed in a blanket of warm yellow. She set the phone on the night stand, raising her arms above her head to stretch. She had a grin plastered on her face that she couldn’t quite seem to shake. He obviously had no idea what he was talking about when it came to Seven, but it had still stuck a smile on her gullible face. She sighed, looking at a single white cloud as it ambled across the endless blue sky. Zen was an idiot, but he was a lovable idiot, and it hadn’t been terrible getting woken up by a phone call from a friend.

She threw the covers off of her legs and wandered over to the window, looking at the city stretched out below. Birds flitted to and fro in the treetops, cars hummed up and down the grey roadways. The colors and shapes all blended together this high up, so that all she saw was a mass of existence, living and breathing as one. A sea of life, whose waves carried untold stories and secrets. Were here friends down there somewhere? Was Zen riding an elevator in that building to the east? Was the building with the tinted windows where Jumin and Jaehee went to work? She hadn’t thought to ask. It seemed inappropriate, since it was dangerous for her to go anywhere. If she wasn’t allowed to return to her own house, she certainly didn’t want to show up to theirs, bringing the threat to places it couldn’t have gone before.

She shook her head, her hair flying every direction as she did. It was a beautiful day, and she didn’t want to think about the ominous fear that loomed over their heads. Seven would take care of it, she was sure of it.

Thought of him brought a sneaky smile across her face, creeping in slowly before she knew what she was doing. She chewed on her lower lip, wondering if it was too early in the morning to message him.

She was deprived of the chance when her phone trilled the now very familiar tone, signaling a message. She half turned, glancing at the screen, and even from the window she could see the bright blonde blur that was Yoosung’s picture. She padded across the floor, her socks shuffling against the carpet, and slid the unlock button.

**Yoosung: Niiiiiiiiicky, did you have breakfast?**

She smirked, his excitability never failing to amuse her.

**Nicolette: Morning Yoosung! ^^**

**Nicolette: No, I haven** **’t eaten yet. Zen woke me up first thing this morning, and I’ve only just got off the phone with him and gotten out of bed.**

**Yoosung: Oh, you got to sleep in then! So jealous!!**

**Nicolette: A little :p**

**Nicolette: Do you have class today?**

She tilted her head, considering asking him a more in depth question, but it occurred to her that she had no idea what his major was.

**Nicolette: Btw what are you studying?**

**Yoosung: It** **’s a secret.~**

**Nicolette: Now you sound like 707.**

**Yoosung: Eh~ I can have secrets too.**

**Nicolette: No fair, you know what *I** **’m* going to school for.**

**Yoosung: T_T yeah, and you** **’re so talented at it**

**Yoosung: I thought your song was even better than Zen!~**

She rolled her eyes, seeing through his distraction completely. He had clearly never gone up against the persistence of one Nicolette Devie when her curiosity had been piqued.

**Nicolette: Hey, don** **’t change the subject.**

**Nicolette: Plus Zen and I perform in completely different categories**

**Nicolette: So there** **’s no competition ^^**

**Yoosung: *nods* very true.**

**Nicolette: Telllll meeeeeeeeeeee**

**Yoosung: >.> It** **’s really not important**

**Nicolette: O.o why not?**

**Yoosung: Because it** **’s not like I’m doing very well**

**Yoosung: You** **’re so smart and talented**

**Yoosung: if I told you and you know that I** **’m failing**

**Yoosung: You would just think I** **’m some dumb kid**

**Nicolette: ~Yoosung~**

**Nicolette: you** **’re not dumb**

**Yoosung: <3<3 You** **’re so awesome, Nicky.**

**Yoosung: I hope I grow up to be as awesome as you.**

**Nicolette: -_- we** **’re the same age**

**Yoosung: Zen always says being a grown up and growing old are very different.**

**Yoosung: Besides, you** **’re doing so much better than I am T_T**

**Nicolette: How would you know?? Lol I** **’m not a perfect student**

**Yoosung: Really?!**

**Nicolette: Nope. I actually took last quarter off because I had some problems.**

**Yoosung: Wow, sounds serious. What happened?**

**Nicolette: Secret~**

**Yoosung: -_-**

**Yoosung: I bet Seven knows. I bet I could just ask him. :p**

She went cold.

She hadn’t thought of that. Ice flooded through her veins, her heartbeat slowing to the meticulous crawl of a glacier. Her mind became a tundra of white static, tinged with the howling winds of panic and self recrimination. The idea that Seven could have tracked down traces of what had happened…that he could have seen…of course, he access to her social media, all of her accounts. How could she have been so stupid, so naive? He would have seen everything.

**Nicolette: Hey, I have to go**

**Nicolette: ttyl**

She closed the chat window, pulling up Seven’s number in her phone. Her heart felt like it had shriveled, all the happiness and hope that she had been feeling so far today drying up and ascending into the soft sky. She imagined it billowing into clouds and consuming the sun, swallowing the world with the same black and grey terror that gripped her insides.

She smashed the call button, her fingers feeling tense and rigid, and then she pressed the phone to her ear.

It rang once before he picked up.

“Helloooooo?” he was full of joy, full of sunlight that was blinding and harsh when she knew what he must really think of her behind it all.

“Listen, I needed to know if you saw…um, the thing is when you were looking me up did you find about…” she was stammering, her words tumbling out in a jumble. She knew she wasn’t making any sense, but there was no air that she could find in her lungs and her thoughts were in a thousand pieces. “I mean, you must have looked at everything and then…I can’t…I don’t….” Her emotions caught in her throat, and she had to choke back a tear-less sob that was trying to break out of her chest.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nicky, relax, eh? Slooooooow down, tell me what’s wrong.” His tone had changed. It was soothing, but it only served to numb her fears as a halo of black crept into the edges of her vision.

“I need to know if you saw it. If you know.”

She sounded like a robot.

“Saw what?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

A bitter, broken robot, emptied of the parts that should have made her work.

“Look, really, I dunno what you mean.” His voice had an edge to it, the faint vibrato of desperation. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that to go off of.”

“Why I left school. Did you look at…if you know about it just tell me, so that I can understand why…so that I could just…” another heaving breath ripped out of her, and she realized that she was shaking. When had the world started crumbling to dust?

“Hey, shhhh, shhhh…it’s okay. Breathe, okay? Breathe with me. In…and out. In…and out.” She was overtightened violin strings and he was the mellow breeze carrying the clarinet. She was sheets of sleet and ice and he was the gentle summer drizzle. She was spikes and thorns and he was petals and whispered wings.

She followed his rhythm, taking deep breaths and letting them leech back out of her evenly, the sound of his voice a lifeline tying her to sanity.

“Better?”

_No._ “Yes.”

“Okay! Just…keep breathing.” The relief in his voice felt like burden to her. Everything felt like burden. “I don’t know why you were out of school. I saw the record, but I didn’t look up why. No need, okay?”

“Okay.”

_Was it?_

“Are you…are you alright?”

“I just…” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, because she had no idea what she wanted to say. “Do you promise? You really didn’t…”

“I swear.” _Truth?_ It felt like it. She wanted to believe it. “Nicky?”

“Yes?”

“Ay, God, what…” he sighed, exasperation bleeding through. She wondered if he was running his fingers through his hair, if his eyes narrowed when he frowned. “What do you need me to say? How can I prove to you that I didn’t see anything?”

_Impossible._ “I…don’t know.”

_Silence._ Was he disappointed? Was he even now pulling up her files so he could satisfy the curiosity? God, what if he hadn’t known, but now that she had brought it up he couldn’t resist discovering everything that she hated about herself?

“Do you want to talk about it?” _Real._ He sounded so sincere.

“No.”

Still a robot, drifting in a sea of numbness, alone.

He paused, and the silence could have filled the world. “Are you afraid? Of what it is?”

“Yes.” A flicker of life in her voice, but it felt far away, even to her. A firefly trying to guide the ships across the rocky shores.

“Would it put you in danger?”

“…no.”

“Then why are you afraid?”

Her voice was so small that she could hardly hear the words as she spoke them. “I don’t want you to know that about me.”

“Is…is there a reason…I mean, you had said before that you were comfortable…” _Disappointed._ She was. She was disappointing him.

“Because I don’t want you to hate me.” The words were cracked as they escaped from her, raw and real and far too open. She wanted to take them back, to trap them in a cage and never let them out again, to beat them into submission so that she could never let it slip into the light of day.

“Not possible.” His response was so immediate, so fervent, that she actually believed him. He couldn’t know what he was talking about, but she believed it all the same. A massive tear worked its way out of her eye, rolling down her cheek to land wetly on her shirt. She would have said more, but he managed to speak first before she could collect enough of her composure for words. “Listen, I didn’t look at anything I didn’t have to. No social media, I put away the pictures, didn’t watch the videos. You don’t have to worry. There’s…there’s nothing that I could know about you that would make me hate you, _but_ you still don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, okay?”

_Real. He was real, and he meant it._

“Thank you, Seven. That…means a lot.” Reality returned to her, the edges of her vision clearing and the air became breathable once more. She was shaking, but it was from exhaustion rather than fear.

“Anything. I mean, anytime. No worries! Seven Zero Seven is always available!” There it was, the bright sunlight in his voice once more. In a way it was blinding compared to the darkness that had almost claimed her, but it also meant everything to her at the moment. She trusted it, and she trusted him, and it was because of that light that she knew he couldn’t be lying. He could never shine onto her if he had known the truth.

“Um, can I ask you a favor?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t…don’t mention this call to the others. I don’t…”

“Say no more! This is just between us.” She could feel his grin, and it seemed to be contagious as a trembling smile broke out on her own face.

“Seven, you really are my hero.”

“Anytime, Nicky.”

He hung up, but the silence didn’t feel so weighted and empty any longer. He hadn’t said the words goodbye, but it hadn’t mattered. He had left her with certainty, and that was enough.

_My hero._


	6. Play Nice, Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin has lunch with his father.

His distaste for the day had started from the moment the sun broke over the horizon. There was a disquiet in his mind as he had moved the covers out of his way, an unease that wouldn’t let up as he showered and dressed. As much as he would have liked to, he couldn’t quite shake the sensation that it would be a terrible day.

Elizabeth the 3rd had padded around the penthouse behind him, her tail swishing from side to side. She had watched intently, her blue eyes full of understanding. She had known that he was tense, and so she had trailed after him to ensure her presence was always noticed.

He had smiled down at her, adjusting his tie. “Thank you for your sympathy, sweet Elizabeth, but you don’t need to worry for me. This day will pass, like all others.”

She had tilted her head to the side, a soft meow slipping out as she flicked her tail. He had reached down and scratched behind her ears for a moment before grabbing his things and leaving. Now, half the day had fluttered by, meetings and paperwork dulling the minutes as his displeasure grew. No matter how much he willed it, his schedule had not been blessed with a sudden cancellation, and the appointed time had finally arrived.

“Mr. Han.” Jaehee stood in the door to his office, her glasses perfectly straight, her suit impeccably pressed, her expression a mask of professionalism. It was strange to think that this was the same person who had only the day before been laughing with Nicolette about frivolous musicals. Perhaps Jumin would never understand women.

“Has the car arrived?” he placed the cap back on his pen and adjusted the cuff links around his wrists.

“Yes. Is there anything you would like me to notify the driver of before you depart?” She spared a glance towards the stack of papers in her arm, her eyes flicking over the words with the same motions Elizabeth the 3rd had used to flick her tail.

He had a thought, a small idea that could give him an appropriate distraction in the precious time he had left before he would arrive. “Yes, please ask that there be classical violin pieces on the radio for the duration of the ride. I would like to familiarize myself with a few.”

Her eyebrow almost rose, but she was a master of self discipline, and so all he saw was the subtle twitch. “Very well. Please proceed downstairs as soon as you are prepared.”

She spared him a curt nod before she spun on her heel and clicked back out the door, her heels making noise until he heard her stop at the end of the hallway in font of the elevator doors. He stood, straightened his suit, and cleared the documents that he had been reviewing off of his desk. For a moment he paused, staring at the spotless office, at the sun gleaming through the walls of windowpanes. The sky was an impeccable blue today.

There was nothing further that he could do to postpone things, and so he walked around his desk and strode to the door, leaving the serenity of his office behind him. The hallway was quiet, the elevator doors when they opened were quiet, the lobby of the company was quiet. The day had stilled, holding its breath beneath the sapphire heavens.

The sun glinted off the windows of the car, and he had to squint and turn his head away. Jaehee stood next to the door, carefully avoiding his gaze, a statue. He had seen her smile before, but she wasn’t smiling now. She smiled when she was reading the chats. She smiled when Nicolette told her that she needed a vacation. Would she smile now if he wished her a good day? Would she smile if he thanked her for opening the door?

He didn’t. She swung the door wide for him, and he settled into the back seat of the car. She turned and handed a stack of papers to him, leaning over slightly so that she could see his face.

“These aren’t urgent, but if you find any extra time during the car ride these reports need to be looked at.” She frowned, a small crease forming in the center of her brow. “Is there…anything else I can do for you, Mr. Han?”

“No, that will be all.” He grabbed the handle and shut the door, and Jaehee took a step back as the car rolled away. He could see her standing on the curb, watching his departure. He looked at the sheaf of papers in his lap, his thumb brushing against the crisp edges. The speakers clicked on, and a sweet concerto filtered through them, the violin twisting around the melody to create the song. He set the papers aside and laid his head back against the seat. He closed his eyes, and let the music fill him. It was easy to forget the world when he imagined that Nicolette was playing. 

They arrived too soon, and he was forced to leave the peace and comfort of the car and walk into the restaurant. Everything inside felt too bright. The windows were filled with sun, the chandeliers glittered with small points of light, the silverware and glasses reflected everything a thousand times over. He was trapped in a world of bouncing glare, and it felt like it would burn his eyes.

He blinked as he was led to the table, and his distaste unfurled into solid and immovable disappointment as he saw the woman draped on his father’s arm.

She was long, and lean, with chestnut hair coiffed into a perfect bun atop her head. Her lips simpered as she smiled, and the hand she proffered to him in greeting was limp and lifeless. Her eyes were dull and empty, and he made his greetings and turned from her, unable to bear her lackluster pleasantries. His father said hello, and the tight ball of tension at the base of Jumin’s neck seemed to ease. It was good to see him, after all…

Then everything faded into the background, including Jumin. The world continued to move around them, everyone sitting and eating and conversing in perfectly courteous tones. Actors in a play, a scene that would never reach curtain call because the facade would never end. His father turned away, barely looking at him and never seeing him. His eyes were glued on a plunging neckline and scarlet lips. His attention was on the hand on his thigh that the world pretended it didn’t notice, on the whisper of the woman who tittered on command, the barest joke evoking her programmed response. Jumin was in a room of people, dining with the only family that he had, and he was completely alone.

He picked at the food on his plate, but his stomach felt like it was full of lead. Everything was ash. Ash and dust, bitter against the back of his tongue. He had lost his appetite.

He glanced at his watch, and it had only been twelve minutes. Twelve minutes, and already he was no more than furniture. He bit back the angry sigh that pressed against his teeth, pulling his phone out of his pocket. The transgression went unnoticed. He was invisible. Perhaps he had stopped existing? Perhaps he had simply faded away, and the world would move on without him.

He unlocked his phone and opened the RFA app, pulling up the chat. He needed a distraction. He needed to see if he was still real.

_Nicolette._

**Nicolette: Jumin! How** **’s work going?**

His lips twitched. At least he could be seen by her.

**Jumin: I** **’m at lunch with my father.**

**Nicolette: Oh!**

**Nicolette: Should you be on your phone** **…? O.o**

He could lie. He could say that his father had just left, or stepped in to use the restroom. He could say that he was just checking something and hadn’t intended to log in. He could say many things to avoid the bitter truth, but that would take effort, and right now he didn’t care to do so.

**Jumin: He** **’s busy with the woman he brought with him.**

**Jumin: He hasn** **’t noticed me for fifteen minutes.**

**Nicolette: Geez, that** **’s rough.**

**Nicolette: No offense, but if he wanted to flirt** **…**

**Nicolette: He should probably take her on a date, not to have lunch with his son.**

The barest breath of a laugh escaped him, a mere sigh compared to the high pitched squeal from across the table.

**Jumin: I wish he were so practical.**

**Jumin: I** **’m used to this, by now. This is not the first time.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sorry, Jumin.**

Was it pity, or sympathy? Was there a difference? He didn’t want to know. It was not distracting enough to learn.

**Jumin: Are you close with your parents?**

There was a pause where she sent nothing. Had he been too abrupt? Was he treading into ground that she did not wish him to see? It was a simple question.When the three dots appeared indicating that she was typing something he realized he had been holding his breath, and he let it out slowly.

**Nicolette: I was. With my father, at least. But he passed away a few years ago.**

**Jumin: I** **’m sorry for your loss.**

And he was. Her hesitation must have been filled with unpleasant memories, weighed down by the grief that she must have lived through. He looked up and across the table, trying to imagine what it would be like if his father weren’t there. A sharp pain lingered in his chest, the breath he took feeling cramped inside his lungs. He couldn’t imagine a world where his father didn’t exist any longer. He could hardly imagine a world where Rika had disappeared, losing more people from his life was unconscionable. 

**Nicolette:It** **’s fine. I miss him, but he wouldn’t want me to dwell on it.**

**Nicolette: Are you close with your father?**

Was he? Jumin frowned down at his screen. He had been, once. Once his father had been the only person that felt like he ever meant anything he said. In a world full of actors, his father had been genuine. He looked up, the woman across the table practically sitting in his father’s lap. What did it mean to be close to someone?

**Jumin: Yes. I believe so.**

**Nicolette: You believe so? You aren** **’t sure?**

**Jumin:** **…**

**Jumin: We once were. I still hold him in very high regard.**

**Jumin: He isn** **’t perfect, but he’s my father.**

**Nicolette: I understand.**

**Jumin: Were things complicated with your father?**

He didn’t mean to pry, but he wanted to know. Nicolette was like a puzzle, a package filled with the unknown that he wanted to inspect. He wanted to understand, to know what made her so…bright.

**Nicolette: No** **…I mean, he wasn’t perfect**

**Nicolette: He used to burn casseroles all the time**

**Nicolette: and he never remembered to feed the cat**

**Nicolette: but I don** **’t think he ever forgot about me while I was sitting across the table.**

It felt…strange, to see her say that. She understood. It was different to be understood by a person.

**Nicolette: I** **’m sorry, I shouldn’t spout off opinions like that.**

**Nicolette: but I** **’m sorry you’re having a difficult lunch.**

**Nicolette: If there** **’s anything that I can do, let me know.**

**Jumin: Thank you. Talking has helped.**

He was surprised to note that it actually had. Having her know how he felt and accept him for it was a unique experience, and she was unlike the others in the way she expressed it. She was not overly efficient like Jaehee, she was not mocking like Zen, or childish like Yoosung. She often said strange things like Luciel, but never when she spoke with him. He smiled, this time enough that he felt his cheeks lift with the expression.

**Jumin: I** **’m sorry, forgive my lack of manners.**

**Jumin: I haven** **’t asked about your day.**

**Nicolette: It** **’s g** **ood! I** **’m just trying to get some things in line for the party, but not too busy.**

**Jumin: How are you handling things?**

**Nicolette: No worries, things are going great with the planning so far!**

**Nicolette: I** **’m doing my very best to make this the best party it can be!**

He frowned. That was not what he had meant. He was not asking after her performance, he was asking about her wellbeing.

**Jumin: No, I meant how are you doing.**

**Jumin: Are you comfortable? Have you had any problems adjusting?**

**Nicolette: oh lol**

**Nicolette: I** **’m fine! Haha, I wish I had a bit more notice before this whole adventure though.**

**Nicolette: I would have saved a bit more for some extra clothes and food.**

**Nicolette: From now on I** **’m carrying more than fuzzy cat slippers in my bag with me.**

Of course. He had assumed she would have been able to go out and purchase anything that she was lacking, but he had never discussed whether or not she had the means to do so. There were still so many things that he had not learned about her, and for the first time he felt ashamed at his lack of curiosity. He needed to do better, to endeavor to know more about her so that he could make sure she was happy. She was doing much for their organization, despite the fact that it could be putting her in danger. He chided himself for taking all of that for granted.

**Jumin: I** **’m sorry that I had not thought to ask before this.**

**Nicolette: It** **’s fine, really. You have** **_plenty_ ** **of other things on your plate.**

**Jumin: I will do better.**

**Nicolette: Jumin, chill. It** **’s all good! ^^**

**_ZEN has entered the chatroom._ **

****

Jumin resisted the urge to groan, gritting his teeth. What terrible timing.

**ZEN: Nicky! Love of my life, have you missed me?**

**Nicolette: <3 Like a cat misses the rain. **

**Jumin: lol**

**ZEN: OMG did you just make Mr. Robot laugh?**

**Jumin: Just because you never make me laugh doesn** **’t mean I can’t.**

**ZEN: Yeah, uh-huh. It was probably just a bug in the program.**

**Jumin:** **…**

**Nicolette: Now now, lovely Zen. STFU.**

**ZEN: T_T**

**ZEN: Forsaken for a robot with no personality!**

**Jumin: At least my personality isn** **’t narcissism.**

**ZEN: At least my personality isn** **’t jerk.**

**Nicolette: Guys** **…**

**Jumin: You wouldn** **’t know the first thing about personality.**

**ZEN: I know more than you, that** **’s for sure.**

**Nicolette: Guys!**

**Jumin: You only know how to pretend to have one.**

**Jumin: All you care about is acting and how pretty you think you are.**

**ZEN: And you think you can throw money at every problem.**

**ZEN: And you** **’re probably going to marry that stupid fur ball.**

**Nicolette: GUYS!**

**Jumin: Don** **’t be obscene. You only say things like that because you haven’t been in a relationship for years.**

**ZEN: Oh, really? And looks who** **’s talking.**

**ZEN: Do you even have enough emotions to date? Did they forget to add that to your programming?**

**Jumin: Just because I never brag about it**

**Jumin: Doesn** **’t mean it hasn’t happened**

**Jumin: And frankly it** **’s none of your business.**

**ZEN: Whatever. I don** **’t believe any of your shit.**

**Jumin; Fine, I don** **’t care.**

**Nicolette: ENOUGH!!!!!**

**Nicolette: If you two don** **’t shut up I’m going to ban you from the party!!!**

**Nicolette: Zen, Jumin isn** **’t a robot, he has perfectly valid emotions and feelings and he can choose to express them however he wants.**

**Nicolette: Jumin, Zen is a caring friend and there** **’s a lot more to him than just his looks, and it’s not fair for you to pick on him for having confidence.**

**Nicolette: And BOTH of you shut up about the other** **’s dating habits. You don’t get to judge other people for whether the are in a relationship or not, that’s not what friends do. PLAY NICE, BOYS.**

**_Yoosung has entered the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: oh, what** **’s this?**

**Yoosung: lololol you guys got in trouble.**

**ZEN: -_-**

**Jumin: I apologize Nicolette, I did not mean to offend you.**

**Jumin: I need to go, I think lunch is almost over.**

**Jumin: Thank you for talking with me, Nicolette. I hope we can do so again soon.**

**_Jumin has left the chatroom._ **

****

He put his phone back in his pocket, his teeth clamped tightly together. She spent so much time caring about each of them, and they had all neglected her wellbeing. She had been in that apartment for four days now, and this was the first that he had heard of any trouble with food or clothes. How careless, how selfish. They had failed her on a fundamental level, and it was inexcusable.

He shifted in his seat, trying to bring his attention back into the moment, to finish his lunch with his father, but he resolved that as soon as it was over he would do something to make up for his ignorance.

 


	7. Mmm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky receives a package.

He hit enter on the keyboard, sending the little package of code off into the ether, where it would go to the agency’s target and become quite the little gift. He should expect to get a nice thank you note sometime before the end of the day when the program returned to him, the protocols he needed packed into neat, compressed files and ready for his perusal.

He sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, it was nice to imagine that the concrete and rafters weren’t there, and that he could see the wide, blue sky. The sun would be warm, the clouds as fluffy and white as Ellie’s fur coat. If he closed his eyes, he could picture the way the wind would feel as it rustled his hair, the way the trees would whisper as birds shook the branches with their song. He could picture all his friends there, perhaps on a picnic. He could picture their smiles, their laughs. Nicky looked so bright when she smiled…

His phone rang, the vibration making it rattle everything on his desk as the device skittered to the left. He sighed, sad to leave the happy day he had been having in his head, picking up the phone and blinking blearily at the image.

Jumin?

He answered, looking at his phone with suspicion, as though it was some kind of trick. “Hello?”

“I need a favor.” Jumin’s voice was abrupt, and steely, cutting to the point with the deadly accuracy of a scalpel.

Seven rolled his eyes. “Oh, good afternoon to you too, Jumin Han. I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” Silence filled the other end of the line, until Seven finally sighed with the heavy surety of a man giving up, switching the phone to his other hand. “Fine, what do you want, Mr. Han?”

“I know that you can’t share the address of the apartment, but I want to know if you would be willing to arrange to have something delivered there for me.”

Seven blinked in surprise. “Eh? You want to send something to the apartment?”

“Yes.”

“I dunno, man…you know V….” Seven tried to picture what V would look like if he heard about it, and the image this produced in his head was not a pleasant one. He certainly didn’t want to be the one to field that conversation when it came up.

“I know. It’s for a good reason, though.” Curt. Stern. Sometimes Seven almost believed it when Zen insisted the other man was just a robot.

“Care to share, Mr. Director?”

He heard a beleaguered sigh on the other end of the line. “Either you want to help or not. Why do you need to know more information?”

“Ah, Jumin, Jumin, Jumin. I’m just trying to protect the classified information.” He smirked, knowing that he was beginning to irritate him.

“You suspect me?”

“Weeeeeeell, this is sudden. How do I know you’re not sending Nicky a box of deadly poison? Or knockout gas? Or spiders?”

“What…who would send a box of spiders? You’re ridiculous.” The disdain in his voice sounded like victory to Seven.

“How am I to know the mysterious ways of a big, important business director. I have to watch out for Nicky’s wellbeing, after all.”

“ _Nicolette_ would not come to any harm. I would never wish to hurt her.” He stressed the syllables of her full name, like it was a title that was impolite to drop. Seven frowned, disliking the way it sounded coming out of his mouth.

“Then you’re gonna have to be more forthcoming. What’s in this mysterious package you want to send _Nicky?_ ” He could play the same game, and he elongated the ‘y’ sound at the end of her shortened name. “It isn’t….love notes, perhaps? Are you sending her your heart stuffed inside a gilded chest??”

The sound that Jumin made was somewhere between a dying cat and a startled bird. “Stop being foolish. If you really have to know, Nicolette has brought it to my attention that she doesn’t have enough food and clothes, due to her rather abrupt arrival. I wanted to send her some things so that she could go out and get what she needs. Since I know that I cannot go there myself, I thought you _might_ be willing to help at least get her supplies. It seems I’ve been mistaken, however, since you’re making this as difficult as it could possibly be.”

Seven swallowed, a strange sinking feeling starting in his heart and working through the rest of him, inch by inch. He hated himself for not asking if she had the bare basics. He hated himself to think that she might have been struggling while all he could think of is how pretty she would look at a picnic. He hated himself that _Jumin Han,_ of all people, had thought of it first. He hated the idea that Jumin would get to be her hero.

He hated it, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny the request. What mattered was that she was happy, and it shouldn’t matter if Jumin was the one to do it.

“Why didn’t you just say so? Put it in the RFA PO box, and I’ll make sure it gets to her ASAP.”

“I’ll have Jaehee take it immediately. Please send it before the end of the day.” The phone clicked, and Jumin was gone, without a word of thanks or goodbye. And that was the guy that had been the one to think of Nicky first. Seven sighed as he set his phone back on the desk, looking at his computer screen without actually seeing it.

Through the lines of code and the late nights, through the distance and the digital smiles that he didn’t always mean, through the acts of both kindness and hate that he hid from everyone he cared about, through the long years wondering if what he had done was right…through all of that, somewhere along the line…had he become someone who really didn’t care? Was he so inhuman now that he couldn’t have the most basic compassion?

Had he become a monster?

Seven grabbed his keys, shoving out of his chair roughly enough that it rolled halfway across the room. At least he could get the package and send it to the right address. That he could do, and maybe it would keep the darkness from swallowing him whole for one more day.

***

She finished her song and let the apartment fill with silence again, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only form of applause she received. She wished that she had her violin with her, so that she could practice that assignment as well, but she couldn’t go get it, and it wasn’t as though she could purchase a replacement. Her bank account was nearly depleted. She would have enough money to afford food for a few more days, but if things hadn’t been resolved enough by then she might be forced to go hungry. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t worrying about what she would do if things got to that point, but she tried to keep it out of her mind as much as possible.

Not to mention she had to attend a party sometime in the future and the only clothes she had were the ones she had been wearing for four days.

She lived off of the scholarships that she received from the school. Normally this was enough, but since she had opted to take two weeks off her next payment would be late. She had stocked up on supplies beforehand, but all of those were at her apartment across town…

She sighed, flopping down on the couch. It was no use dwelling on it. Things had happened the way they had happened. There was no way that she could have prepared for this sudden upheaval, so she really needed to stop moping and make the best of it.

She looked out the window, and the sky was just fading to the deep blue of night, the faintest kiss of burnt orange along the horizon. Lights had started flickering in the city below, and it looked like a strange reverse of the night sky, as though the stars had fallen to earth for the evening and would shine from below instead of above. It made her feel like the universe had flipped, and somehow she had ended up hanging upside down, suspended in space while everything passed her by.

She was startled out of her reflections when a knock at the door echoed through the apartment. She picked up her phone, clutching it to her chest like a shield, wondering if she should call someone. Who could be there? She hadn’t heard or seen anyone else in the building for the four days that she had been there. Part of her felt like she had slipped outside of existence, tucked into a small pocket that no one could find or see.

No one except whoever was at the door.

There wasn’t any further knock, and so she sat on the couch, curling into herself, and waited. After ten minutes had passed by, so slowly that it felt like an eternity, she told herself that whoever it was must have left. She got up and tiptoed to the door, certain that she would be heard, certain that whoever lurked in the hallway would mean her harm. She peered through the peephole, but all she saw was the empty hall.

Drawing in a deep breath, she placed her hand on the handle and pressed, pulling the door open an inch so she could look outside. True to the evidence presented thus far, there was no one out there. She couldn’t even see anyone down by the elevator, and the plush carpet offered no clues as to where her visitor had come from or gone to.

Save for the rectangular package left at her feet.

She opened the door wider, kneeling to investigate the box. The handwriting on it was angular and messy, as though it had been written in a hurry by a distressed cat. On top of the box, tied to it with a neat blue ribbon, was an envelope. Her name was scrawled across it, but in a completely different hand than the one that addressed the box. This script was elegant and flowing, the lines coming together like poetry.

She glanced up and down the hallway, then picked up the box and carried it inside. It wasn’t overly heavy, but it did take more effort to lift than she had expected. She kicked the door shut behind her and carried the package to the counter, pulling the envelope free from its bindings.

_Nicolette,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know that you asked me not to worry, but I am concerned about your wellbeing, You have done much for the RFA since you arrived, and you seem to be doing it out of the kindness of your heart, as you have no reason to trust us or do us any favors. I wanted you to know that I appreciate this. I would like to show you my gratitude more appropriately, but I will save that for after we meet. Perhaps after the party._

_I hope you find the items within suitable. I apologize that I am not knowledgeable in the things a young woman might need, so I hope you don_ _’t mind that I had Assistant Kang select what she thought was appropriate. I was also unsure which restaurants and establishments are nearby, so I hope that the enclosed gift cards will suffice._

_Please, don_ _’t hesitate to ask me if you need anything else._

_I am here for you, whenever you should require me._

_Sincerely,_

_Jumin Han_

She read over the letter, then read it again, not quite believing what she was seeing. She folded it and placed it back in the soft envelope, setting it aside so that she could open the package. Inside she found a bag of common toiletries, including a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, and just about anything else she could possibly need for hygiene. The brands were all very expensive and high quality, and nothing like what she was usually able to afford for herself. Next to the bag there was a basket of luxury food items, including various kinds of chocolates and teas, mints, liqueurs, and coffees. Carefully arranged fruits and cheese were also distributed inside the massive gift. On top of all of that was a thick envelope, and when she opened it there were what must have been a hundred gift cards to every upscale store imaginable. Clothing stores, organic grocery stores…her hands paused as she flipped through them, pulling out one for a prestigious music store. She had only been in to it once, when her father had bought her a violin to celebrate her early acceptance into the accelerated music program.

Her eyes teared up as she looked over everything in the box. She was astounded that Jumin had cared enough to do something so…thoughtful. It was too much, far too much. She didn’t know how she would ever be able to repay him for it, but she was touched to her very core that he had been so concerned. She knew he had said as much when they had talked earlier, but in her experience people said a lot of things they didn’t mean. That was one of the things she appreciated about Jumin, though. She could trust that if he used up the energy it took to say something, then he certainly meant what he said.

She picked up her phone and pulled up the app, flipping to his contact information and hitting the call button.

It rang three times before he picked up.

“Nicolette, are you well?”

“Jumin, you shouldn’t have.” She wiped a tear from her eye, taking a deep breath to keep herself from falling to pieces like some sentimental fool.

He chuckled, warmer still than it had been the last time she heard it. “Can I assume you received the package, then? Is everything to your satisfaction?”

“It’s too much, really. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“It was no trouble. Assistant Kang was the one who selected everything. I trust that you have everything you need?”

“More than. This…” her voice broke, and she took a second to clear it, gathering her wits. “It means a lot to me. I promise I’ll pay you back, as soon as I get the chance.”

“Please don’t say such things.” His voice was still warm, but there was a subtle sharp edge to it that scraped against her nerves. “It is a gift, and it was the least I can do.”

She smiled, wishing that there was a better way that she could show her gratitude. “Still, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“ _I said no._ _”_ He snapped the words out, and the vehemence of the order stunned her into silence. She stared at the envelope that his letter had come in, her eyes losing focus. Before she could gather herself to respond, he cleared his throat. “I apologize. I have had a long day, and I didn’t mean to retaliate against you for that.” He sounded sincere, the picture of contrition, and she couldn’t help but remember his chat earlier, and the awful lunch with his father.

“Don’t even worry about it. I understand.”

“Thank you. I should let you go, so that you can go to bed early. Please, have a good evening.” He sounded sad as he spoke his final words, and it pulled at her heart to think that he might still bothered about everything that had happened during his lunch.

“You too. I hope that you have good dreams.”

He laughed, and he sounded surprised that he had done so. “Perhaps I might.”

Jumin disconnected, and she stared at the box on the counter, looking at the expensive gifts and the delicate note. Her eyes came to rest on the address, scrawled across the top of the package, the letters blocky and strange. She noticed that it was addressed to “Nicky” and not “Nicolette”.

She thumbed her way through the different parts of the RFA app until she found her private messages, pulled up the thread that she had going with Seven, and then she started typing.

**Nicolette: Thank you.**

**707: ??**

**Nicolette: For sending the package for Jumin.**

**707: ^^**

**707: How did you know it was me?**

**Nicolette: There are only two people who know where I am right now, and I REALLY don** **’t think V did it.**

**707: lolol good point**

**707: Don** **’t mention it**

**707: it was Jumin** **’s idea**

She chewed her lower lip, not quite sure what it was she wanted to say. She felt like her head was full of things that she needed Seven to know, but when she tried to think of the words to express them everything slipped away, like fog through her fingertips.

**Nicolette: Still, thank you. It was nice of you to help him, and I appreciate the gift.**

There was a long pause before she saw him start typing another message.

**707: I** **’m glad Jumin thought of it. I’m glad you’re taken care of.**

**Nicolette: Maybe too much. >.> you guys do way too much for me.**

**707: No such thing.**

**707: Besides**

**707: You** **’re planning the party!!!!**

**707: We couldn** **’t be doing that without you.**

**Nicolette: I guess.**

**Nicolette: But I feel like**

**Nicolette: You guys are so welcoming and nice to me.**

**Nicolette: I dunno**

**Nicolette: I just never had that before.**

**Nicolette: I know it hasn** **’t been that long**

**Nicolette: But I really care about you.**

**Nicolette: And I hope you understand how much I appreciate everything you** **’re doing for me.**

She had to let out a long, trembling breath after she had hit send for the final time. It was something that she wanted to say, but for some reason saying it made her stomach do flips inside of her.

**707:** **…**

**707: It** **’s what anyone would do.**

**Nicolette: It** **’s really not. Trust me.**

She frowned, thinking about the past again, about everything that had happened. Would things have gone differently if the RFA had been the ones by her side? She could never picture them doing what her other friends had done, but she had also never pictured anyone being able to do that, period. Perhaps what she had done was really the wrong thing…She shook her head, her hair slapping against her shoulders, driving the thoughts out of her head as forcefully as she could manage. 

**Nicolette: But enough about me. How was your day? Catch any bad guys?**

**707: haha maybe**

**707: we** **’ll see**

**707: no progress on the hacker though :(**

**Nicolette: You** **’ll get him! I know it.**

**707: T_T so much faith in me**

**Nicolette: All the faith!**

**Nicolette: 707, Hacker God, will always prevail!! ^^**

**707: Disciple Nicky!**

**707: Your devotion shall be rewarded!!!**

**Nicolette: !!!**

**Nicolette: But how, God Seven? How can you gift me with more than your awe inspiring presence?**

**707: I will find the hacker**

**707: And defeat them!!**

**707: And then I will help you throw the party!!**

**707: BUT WAIT**

**707: THERE** **’S MORE!!**

She gasped out a laugh, even though she was alone in an empty apartment, but it didn’t make her feel silly. She felt like he was there with her, like he had heard it even through the pixels on the screen.

**Nicolette: ?!?!**

**Nicolette: HOW? SO MUCH!!**

**707: WE WILL HAVE THE BEST PARTY**

**707: AND THEN RIDE OFF IN THE SUNSET, VICTORIOUS!**

**Nicolette: ALL MY DREAMS**

**Nicolette: ARE COMING TRUE**

**Nicolette: WE WILL RIDE INTO THE SUNSET**

**Nicolette: ON A MIGHTY ROBOT HORSE.**

**707: lolololol**

**Nicolette: lolol**

**707: You get me so well. Too well.**

**Nicolette: haha, peas in a pod.**

**707: I** **’ve never seen a robot horse**

**707: I should build one**

**Nicolette: ?!**

**Nicolette: Do you build robots?**

**707: No**

**707: Not yet**

**707: I bet I could**

**Nicolette: SO COOL**

**Nicolette: although maybe a horse is too big to start with**

**707: Hm, good point**

**Nicolette: start with a kitty**

**707: !!**

**707: Perfecto!!**

**Nicolette: you could make a robo version of Ellie**

**Nicolette: a white cat with blue eyes**

**Nicolette: and a pretty pink bow around her neck**

**Nicolette: we could name her Ellie 2.0**

**707: AMAZING**

**707: IT** **’S LIKE YOU’RE IN MY HEAD**

**Nicolette: lolol**

**707: lol**

**707: so how was your day? Did you eat dinner?**

**Nicolette:** **…no. I probably should, since I skipped lunch.**

She was about to type more when her phone started going off in her hands, and Seven’s face popped into view. She tapped the green button to answer the call.

“Seven?”

“Disciple, your god is displeased to hear you’ve been skipping meals.” He had lowered his voice, adding false command to his light words.

She giggled. “I’m so sorry, God Seven, I have failed you.”

“Ehhhh, no laughing now.” His voice returned to normal, and she could hear his smile through his words. “I want you to be healthy.”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop grinning. “Yes, sir. I promise, I’ll eat dinner.”

“Well, actually…” he hesitated, pausing for the tiniest beat. “I was just sitting down to eat, too, so I thought…I mean, I can’t be there with you, but we can still eat together.”

She felt like a Christmas tree. She felt like him saying that made lights turn on within her and start glowing, one by one, until she was surrounded by beautiful brilliance. Everything was warm, everything was full of cheer, and everything that she had ever been through just washed away.

“I’d love that.”

He laughed nervously. “Good. That’s good. Er, so! I’m having the amazing and satisfying Honey Buddha chips for dinner! What about you?”

“Seven!” she furrowed her brow and put her hand on her hip, even though she knew he couldn’t see it.

“What?”

“If you’re going to make me eat to stay healthy, you can’t possibly think I’ll let you get away with having chips for dinner.”

“Oh-ho, my disciple is bossy!” he laughed again, and she loved how bright it sounded. “My health isn’t important.”

“Hmph, maybe to you it’s not.” She walked over to box on the counter and pulled out some things for herself to eat while she talked, including some of the fruit. “But I for one would like to see you lead a long and healthy life.”

“Ehhhh, no no no. I will live a great, grand life! It doesn’t matter if it’s short.” He brushed off her concern, and she heard the crumple of the bag of chips on the other end of the line.

She slammed a small jar of tea leaves onto the counter harder than she had intended, and she could tell that he heard it wherever he was because he stopped making sound. “Luciel Seven Zero Seven Choi. You get up from that computer immediately and march to your refrigerator and find something better to eat.”

“Did you just use Seven Zero Seven as my middle name?” his mirth filled breath hissed through his words, surprise oozing out of each syllable.”Wait, are you serious?”

“Would you let me eat chips for dinner?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Nope. No arguments. Go to the fridge.”

He laughed again, and she heard the sound of movement as he did what she asked. “You’re a strange one, Nicky. But if it’ll make you happy, then fine.”

“Good. Now, to answer your question, I’m going to have some of the fruit Jumin sent over, and a sandwich I had in the fridge, with a nice glass of green tea.”

“Oh, that sounds good.” She heard the sound of his refrigerator door opening, and smiled to herself. “Let’s see, let’s see…hmmm, no fruit, no sandwiches. I have…pizza bread?”

“Mmm. I love pizza bread.”

There was great clattering sound from his end of the line, and then the rush of air before he came back. “Ack! You can’t make that sound!”

She tilted her head as she opened the jar of tea, the aroma filling the room. “Which sound? I made a sound?”

“Yes you said ‘mmm’ and I just…you can’t…you know what? Never mind, forget I said anything.” He mumbled the last words, and she could almost see him sullenly staring at his meal as he prepared it.

“Forgotten.” She heard his sigh of relief, and a wicked grin swept across her face. “You know what else I love? This tea. It smells so good! Mmmmmmm…”

He whimpered and let out a long sigh. “Ah, no! I can’t handle it!”

“Sorry, sorry. I apologize, my God Seven. Oh, this fruit looks so good. Mmmmmmmm…”

The line clicked, and she could tell that he had disconnected the call. She couldn’t help but laugh, holding her stomach as she doubled over. After a few moments she managed to catch her breath, and she called him back.

“Nicky!!” when he spoke her name it was a plea, an utterance of desperation as much as it was mirth.

“It’s fine, don’t hang up! I promise I won’t do it again.”

“…okay. You…you just…you’re something else.”

“So are you. So, are we still eating together?”

“If it doesn’t kill me.” He muttered, but before she could respond he continued at his normal volume. “What did you do today? Besides torture poor, innocent hackers during dinner.”

She smirked, pulling out one of the plastic plates she had purchased the other day and placing her food on it. “Well, I practiced singing, emailed some party guests, mediated a fight between Jumin and Zen, and advised Yoosung to play just a _little_ less LOLOL.”

“So busy!” she heard the clink of glass as he shuffled around in his kitchen, and the thrum of a microwave turning on.

“Hardly. What about you?”

“Work, work, work. Can’t say much about that. Oh, I did go see my babies for awhile.”

“Your babies?”

“May cars! They’re my sweet babes! I try to go visit them every day, to make sure they’re doing okay.” He sounded so wistful and proud when he mentioned them that she didn’t need to question how much he must like cars.

“And how were they? Were all your babies happy?” She removed the teacup and kettle out of the basket Jumin had sent, and filled it with water to set on the stove.

He was quiet for a moment, before he let out another long, slow breath. “God, you didn’t even make fun of me.”

“I think I teased you enough for one night.”

“Ah, fair point!” he laughed. “They were all good. I told them about you, I think they want to meet you one day.”

She was strangely pleased by this admission. “Oh, well then I’ll have to stop by sometime.”

“It would be nice to go for a drive together, maybe out to the mountains.” His microwave beeped, and she heard the glass clack together again as he removed his plate. She could imagine his whole kitchen filled with the smell of marinara sauce.

Steam had already started to pour out of the tip of her kettle, so she removed it from the heat and added the tea leaves, letting it steep. “I would love that! We could go have a picnic.”

He was silent for several beats, during which time she finished preparing her cup of tea. She stood at the counter and started eating, careful not to do so too fast so he wouldn’t have to hear her too much.

“I would love that, too.” He sounded breathless, and she wondered if he had just swallowed a mouthful of pizza bread.

“Do you get to go driving often?”

“No, I don’t get out much. Too much work.”

She sipped her tea, letting the warmth spread from her lips all the way to her toes. “That’s no good, your babies must miss you.”

“Gah, Nicky…how do you get me so well?” he inhaled, and she imagined that he was still smiling as he spoke.

“Peas in a pod, remember?”

“Right.” He paused, and she was confused when a note of sadness worked its way into his word. He had been so thrilled a moment ago, yet now there was a shadow spreading across his tone. A small ache in her chest bloomed into something larger, a sense of worry that she couldn’t quite place. “Listen, I should let you go. I’m sure you’re tired.”

She had only eaten a third of the meal that she had prepared, but she had lost her appetite in her concern. “Okay. Thanks for making me eat.”

“Thanks for eating with me. I feel…it was good.”

Bright, beautiful, the happiness flickered to life again. “Anytime. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She was about to hang up, but his voice returned her to the line in an instant. “Nicky?”

“Yes?”

“Sweet dreams.”

Then he was gone, for good this time, the click a beat of finality at the end of their conversation, the punctuation that could not be removed. She sighed, cleaning up the leftovers from her meal and placing them in the trash, wiping her hands from the remnants of the juice on the fruits. She downed the last sip of her tea and set the cup in the sink. She could wash the dishes in the morning.

She readied for bed, washing up using the supplies that Jumin had sent, and as she settled in to sleep she had one thing on her mind.

_Sweet dreams, Seven._


	8. The Stars are at Your Fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the party gets a date.

Long shadows reached from everything in the room, extending out from the points where the light from her screen touched them. Her blanket - a new one, thanks to the gift basket - was pulled up around her shoulders, the fluffy down cascading over her so that she felt like she was enveloped in a cloud. She was warm, despite the chill in the air, the autumn rain pelting against the window as a murmuring staccato to soothe her off to sleep. She wasn’t ready to sleep yet, of course, but she liked listening to the sound all the same.

**707: lolol Jumin is gonna marry Ellie**

**707: He loves her**

**Nicolette: haha I don** **’t think they have that kind of relationship**

**707: You don** **’t know him well enough yet**

**Nicolette: hush, he** **’ll see these later when he logs in**

**Nicolette: don** **’t be mean to Jumin**

**707: ur right, I** **’m sorry**

**707: that** **’s Zen’s job**

**Nicolette: XD apparently**

Five days in, and Nicky was finally starting to feel like this was real. The conversations, the laughter, the excitement over the party. This was really her life now. She had no idea what she had done to deserve such a wonderful change, but she would hold on to it as hard as she could. She couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to any of them, ever, and it surprised her how deeply she meant that. When things had fallen apart at school, and her friends had…left, she was heartbroken, but she wasn’t sure how much she had cared. They were like the falling leaves, drifting from the trees before the chill of winter. It was sad to see so much death, but part of her had always known that it would end that way. It was the way of things, and she had accepted that nothing good could ever stay. With the RFA it was different, though. It felt like it went deeper than the friendships she had developed before, like there was something connecting them that was stronger than circumstance, stronger than affection. Was it fate? Divine intervention? Perhaps Unknown had been an angel, guiding her on the right path.  Regardless of the reason, regardless of who had sent her here, Nicky felt like she was where she was supposed to be.

****

**_Yoosung has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: Sweet Yoosung**

**707: sweet young Yoosung**

**Yoosung: -_- you** **’re a year older than me**

**707: Sweet Baby Yoosung**

**Nicolette: lol hola Yoosung**

**Yoosung: Hi Nicky!!**

**Yoosung: How goes the party planning?**

**Nicolette: Good! Maybe.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m doing my best!**

**707: ~you should sing for them~**

**707: Then they will all come to the party**

**Nicolette: *blushing***

**707: GAH! NOT AGAIN!**

**Yoosung: ????**

**Nicolette: mmmmmmm**

**707: NO**

**707: ERROR**

**707: SYSTEM FAILURES**

**707: 707 BOT HAS ENCOUNTERED A MALFUNCTION AND NEEDS TO CLOSE**

**Nicolette: ;) <3**

She knew she shouldn’t tease him so, but she couldn’t help it. She knew that it made him laugh, and she was willing to go to great lengths to put a smile on his face. After his strange moment of sadness the night before, all she wanted to do was make him happy, to banish whatever shadows he held on to so deeply. She was rewarded for her efforts when he sent a selfie of himself holding up a bag of chips, grinning maliciously as he popped one into his mouth. His eyes were shining with mirth, and for a moment she just stared at him, wondering if he knew how captivating he was.

**Nicolette: better not be dinner**

**707: nope, but it could have been**

**Yoosung: you guys are really weird**

**Nicolette: haha very true**

**Nicolette: How was school? How was LOLOL?**

**Yoosung: I hit level 80!**

**Nicolette: Congrats! I didn** **’t know schools gave out levels :p**

**Yoosung: -_-**

**707: Yoosung is a level 80 C student**

**Yoosung: T_T**

**Nicolette: lol congrats on your level though, for real**

**Nicolette: I hope you also accomplished something in school**

**Yoosung: I joined a new club~**

**707: Oh! Can I take bets on how long you** **’ll stay?**

**Yoosung: -_-**

**Nicolette: Shush Seven. Encourage young Yoosung.**

**707: Yes Disciple Nicky.**

**_ZEN has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Oh, everyone** **’s on so late!**

**Nicolette: hey pretty boy, make any girls cry today?**

**ZEN: alas, no, but I did get a new role in a musical!**

**Yoosung: CONGRATULATIONS ZEN!!!**

The screen flashed brightly as Yoosung and Seven took turns sending emojis that threw different types of confetti in the air, and Nicky couldn’t help but laugh at the antic of her friends.

_Her friends._ Those two words settled over her, warmer than the blanket, warmer than the cup of tea she had sipped with dinner, warmer than how she had felt receiving the package from Jumin. She had friends again, and it was the happiest thing she could imagine.

**ZEN: Nicky, my perfect singing angel, how was your day?**

**Nicolette: Long. I had to do so much shopping -_-**

**Nicolette: but I** **’m happy to have some things that are mine now**

**Nicolette: I really didn** **’t want to use Rika’s….**

**ZEN: Yeah, I just want to say again** **…**

**ZEN: How sorry I am that I never thought to ask** **…**

**Nicolette: Enough apologizing, all of you, sheesh.**

**Nicolette: if you** **’re sorry then you can help me pay Jumin back later when things have settled**

**ZEN: Ugh, I can** **’t believe we owe him one.**

**Yoosung: I bet Rika would have been fine with you using her stuff.**

**Nicolette:** **…**

**707: I don** **’t think that’s what Nicky was worried about**

**Yoosung: I bet you** **’d like her things, Nicky, you’re just like her**

**ZEN: Yoosung, that** **’s not…**

**707: She isn** **’t.**

**Yoosung: ?? I think she is.**

**707: Don** **’t compare them.**

**707: We loved Rika, but Nicky isn** **’t Rika.**

Nicky hesitated for a moment, unsure of herself and her words, but she could sense a fight coming on if she didn’t intervene, and she didn’t want them to argue tonight. She was too happy, and wanted to keep that bubble of pleasant love and joy for as long as she could manage.

**Nicolette: Yoosung** **…**

**Yoosung: ?**

**Nicolette: I** **’m in her apartment, and I’m really happy to have the opportunity to carry on her work**

**Nicolette: But I don** **’t want to take her place.**

**Nicolette: That isn** **’t fair to her memory.**

**Nicolette: you all loved her very much, and it must have been very sad to see her go.**

**Nicolette: but you can** **’t replace people. We are all unique.**

**Nicolette: To think that there is someone out there just like Rika is to forget that she was a one of a kind.**

**ZEN: Beautifully said, my love.**

**Yoosung:** **…**

**707: it** **’s not fair to Nicky, either.**

**707: She** **’s so different from Rika.**

**707: Don** **’t let your memories keep you from seeing the wonderful person that Nicky is.**

Nicky wanted to stop and thank Seven for his words, to thank him for really seeing a difference between the two girls. It was eerie staying in her apartment, and she felt like she was trespassing on the other woman’s place in the world. Having Yoosung continually compare them compounded matters, and she felt like she was just a stand in sometimes, a puppet built to fill the empty space. Then one of them would say something like what Seven had just said, and her doubts disappeared like tears in the rain.

**Yoosung: I** **’m not sure I understand**

**Yoosung: But** **…**

**Yoosung: I don** **’t want to offend you, Nicky. I’ll think about it.**

**Nicolette: Thanks, Yoosung. For now, how was your dinner?**

**Yoosung: T_T I ate in the cafeteria, it was awful**

**_Jaehee has entered the chatroom._ **

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Jaehee! You** **’re free from work.**

**Jaehee: Zen!!!! I read in a magazine that you** **’re being considered for a new role!!**

**Jumin: Hello, everyone who isn** **’t Zen.**

**707: Hello Mr. Hero**

**ZEN: I** **’m not just being considered, I got the role!**

**Jaehee: OMG ZEN**

**Jaehee: I CAN** **’T WAIT ^^**

**Jumin: Why am I Mr. Hero? Was that to me?**

**707: You** **’re Nicky’s big savior, sending that box.**

**Yoosung: Jumin are you her knight in shining armor?**

**707: He must ride a shining steed!**

**ZEN: That image makes me want to vomit.**

**Jumin: I enjoy horseback riding.**

**Jaehee: -_- I don** **’t think that’s what they meant.**

**Jumin: I** **’m not a hero. It was common courtesy.**

**Yoosung: And he** **’s the only one that thought to do it T_T**

**ZEN: So, so sorry**

**ZEN: God I can** **’t believe that jerk thought of it first**

**Nicolette: Boys, seriously**

**Nicolette: I didn** **’t talk about it, it isn’t anybody’s fault**

**Nicolette: Stop calling Jumin names**

**707: Hero~**

**707: I bet he carried the package to the post office on his shining steed**

**Jaehee: -_- I carried it, does that make me his steed?**

**ZEN: Jaehee, you work far too hard, but you are definitely not a steed :s**

**Jaehee: T_T thank you for noticing, Zen**

**Jumin: I don** **’t have a steed. I could purchase one. Do you think Elizabeth the 3rd would like horses?**

**Nicolette: I prefer robot horses**

**707: <3<3**

**Yoosung: ???**

**Jaehee: Don** **’t bother Yoosung, I gave up trying to understand what they’re talking about**

**707: INTO THE SUNSET**

**Nicolette: VICTORIOUS!!!**

**707: Nicky understands me.**

**ZEN: And that makes me concerned for her sanity.**

**Jumin: she** **’s humoring him.**

**707: at least she has humor.**

**Nicolette: BOYS. Don** **’t make me type sternly at you.**

**707: lololol**

**Yoosung: lolol**

**Jaehee: -_- that will show them**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t have a lot of options here lol I could threaten to glare angrily at my phone**

**Jaehee: I guess that** **’s true.**

**Yoosung: Don** **’t bother, they’ll fight no matter what.**

**Nicolette: Nope, I** **’m a peacekeeper.**

**707: Disciple Nicky, spreading peace!!!**

**Nicolette: Peace and justice and love!**

**Nicolette: Praise God Seven for his teachings.**

**Jaehee:** **…**

**ZEN: Isn** **’t that sacrilegious?**

**Yoosung: it** **’s like they talk in code**

**Jumin: She** **’s too nice to tell him to be quiet.**

**707: T_T**

**707: probably true**

**Nicolette: Never!!**

**_V has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: V!!**

Nicky stared at the screen, marveling at the fact that the mysterious V had finally chosen to make an appearance. Her heart did a nervous flutter in her chest. He was technically her boss now, after all. She suddenly felt very sheepish about her ridiculous exchanges with Seven. Could she be fired? Was that something that could happen?

**V: Good evening, everyone.**

**V: It** **’s good to see everyone is here.**

**V: How are you all?**

**Jumin: Good. We are putting our best efforts into the party.**

**V: Good to hear. That** **’s actually what I wanted to chat about.**

**V: I** **’ve decided the date for the party.**

**Yoosung: Really?!**

**V: Yes.**

**V: Since Nicolette is so new, I didn** **’t want the party to get too large**

**V: And I think it will be best to have a small prep time.**

**V: So I think we should set the part for roughly a week from now.**

**Nicolette: A week?!**

**ZEN: V, isn** **’t that too soon?**

**V: I am certain that Nicolette will do a wonderful job.**

**Jaehee: It** **’s not that I doubt her abilities**

**Jaehee: But a week would put a lot of strain on her.**

**Jumin: Are you sure? This seems too hasty to me. I disagree with the date.**

She watched the arguments become circular as her blood pressure jumped upwards. A week? She had just barely gotten into the swing of things, and she would have so much more to arrange. Fundraisers of this magnitude required so much coordination. Where would she find a venue? And catering? With a week’s notice she was going to be laughed off the phone.

She saw the others panic, though, and she couldn’t bring herself to voice her concerns. They so desperately wanted this party to happen, and she didn’t want to disappoint them. She wanted to give them all the world, served up on a gilded silver platter. If she had to have a few sleepless nights to pull it off, then so be it. This was her job now, her life now, and she would keep fighting for it. She would fight to make the party a success and she would fight to put smiles on their faces.

After all, Nicky was a peacekeeper.

**Nicolette: Actually, guys**

**Nicolette: I trust V. If he thinks having the party in a week is the perfect time, then that** **’s what we’ll do.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m confident that I can get everything together.**

**Nicolette: I promise, I won** **’t let you guys down.**

**Yoosung: T_T Nicky you** **’re the best.**

**707:** **…**

**Jumin: I admire your confidence.**

**Jaehee: -_- please don** **’t work as much as me**

**ZEN: So strong~**

**V: Thank you for trusting me.**

**V: I appreciate your enthusiasm.**

**V: Luciel.**

**707: Yo.**

**V: Do you have any further information on the hacker:**

**707: T_T no**

**707: I** **’ll try to work harder on it**

**Nicolette: he** **’s already working really hard**

**707: Not hard enough**

**Nicolette: Yes hard enough.**

**V: Thank your for supporting him, Nicolette.**

**Nicolette: don** **’t mention it.**

**V: Keep me posted if you find anything.**

**V: I am afraid I have to go, my signal is getting bad.**

**V: I will try to talk to you all before the party, but if not I will see you there.**

**V: Goodnight.**

**_V has left the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: he just left.**

**ZEN: Are you sure you** **’re okay with this party date, babe?**

**Jumin: She is not your babe.**

**ZEN: Shut up robot, I can call her what I want.**

**Nicolette: Jumin, he** **’s just joking, Zen, please be civil.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m fine. I can handle it. I’m persistent~**

**707: It** **’s a lot to ask.**

**Yoosung: I bet she can do it. I believe in you, Nicky!!~~**

**707: I do too** **…**

**707: I just don** **’t want you to overwork yourself.**

**ZEN: I guess** **…**

**ZEN: That** **’s why we should all step up and help.**

**Jaehee: That is a good idea, Zen ^^**

**Yoosung: Yeah! Yeah! We can help too!**

**Jumin: You only have to ask if you need my assistance.**

**ZEN: Same~**

**Jaehee: Well, I would like to extend the same offer.**

**Jaehee: I have to go for the evening, I really need to get to bed.**

**Jaehee: But Nicky, please don** ** ’t hesitate to call if you need help **

**Nicolette: Thanks, Jaehee, you** **’re a saint. I’m gonna buy you that DVD you were talking about for Christmas or something**

**Jaehee: YOU ARE TOO KIND**

**Jaehee: Good night everyone~**

**_Jaehee has left the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: *sigh* I should probably go too**

**ZEN: I need my beauty sleep.**

**ZEN: you will call if you need something?**

**Nicolette: Yep, no worries ^^**

**ZEN: Alright then. Seven, don** **’t keep her up too late.**

**707: ??**

**_ZEN has left the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: Everyone** **’s leaving. I guess I should too.**

**Yoosung: I** **’m sorry if I offended you earlier, but I’m really glad you’re here.**

**Nicolette: you didn** **’t Yoosung, it’s fine. Have a good night~ ^_^**

**Yoosung: You too!**

**_Yoosung has left the chatroom._ **

**707: He** **’ll figure it out soon, he just needs time.**

**Nicolette: I know. Thanks for sticking up for me earlier, though.**

**707: ^^**

**707: God Seven, to the rescue!!**

**Jumin: I suppose I should leave too.**

**Nicolette: Thanks for hanging out, Jumin. I hope we weren** **’t too annoying.**

**Jumin: You don** **’t annoy me.**

**Jumin: It was fun to talk to you again, I hope we can do so more often.**

**Jumin: Have a pleasant night. I hope that you have beautiful dreams.**

**_Jumin has left the chatroom._ **

**707: what a weird sign off**

**Nicolette: lol awe, I thought it was nice**

**707: so stiff**

**707: Robot Jumin: Activate Poetic Farewell Protocol. Initiating target: Nicolette.**

**Nicolette: lolol**

**Nicolette: You shouldn** **’t be so hard on him. He expresses things in his own way, he’s not a robot.**

**Nicolette: Besides, poetry isn** **’t all bad.**

There was a pause where Seven didn’t say anything, and she wondered if perhaps he had fallen asleep at his keyboard, probably mid robot joke. She herself was just starting to get drowsy, her eyelids feeling heavier by the second. She would enjoy sleeping in her new sheets, and her new pajamas, and not wondering if the ghost of the person who used to own the apartment would come clawing out of the closet to punish her for disturbing her things.

**707: Well then, in that case** **…**

**707: Fair lady, I hope that you have dreams that make you feel like the stars are at your fingertips.**

**707: Goodnight, sweet damsel.**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

She couldn’t speak as she looked at the words. Her heart felt like it was filled with wonder, with light as bright as the stars in the sky, collected together to create one point of brilliance. She wondered if he knew how close he was to the lyrics in her song, if he had known that it was one of the lines that she thought the most beautiful. She wondered if he knew how much it meant to her that he had said them.

It was because she was still staring at her phone, giddy with happiness, that she was able to pinpoint the exact second when it happened, and didn’t miss a single line.

****

**_Unknown has entered the chatroom._ **

**Unknown: ghka**

**Unknown: ;** **’pw8**

**Unknown: 9teyouwill78**

**Nicolette: You! Who are you?**

**Unknown: agdagkaghdicipleagagh**

**Unknown: _ageoa758935949_**

**Nicolette: What do you want?! Why did you send me here?!!**

**Nicolette: Are you dangerous?!!?**

**Unknown://4561fdadg**

**Unknown:HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE**

**Unknown: 574643657308**

**Unknown: 1701 Ash St.**

**Unknown: N I C O L E T T E**

**Unknown: Outcast with the voice of an angel**

**Unknown: Iwill**

**Unknown: comeforyou**

**Unknown:g84939**

**Unknown: and take you to paradise. **

**_Unknown has left the chatroom._ **

She gasped, tossing her phone to the edge of the bed, the blue light casting a great round circle of light onto the ceiling. She stared at it like it was a snake, fangs dripping with venom, ready to strike at her heart and fill her with poison. Except it had already bitten, the bile of terror rising in the back of her throat, shadows of trembling doubt lancing through her veins so that all her happiness was leeched away.

He had typed the address. All the while that she had been falling in love with her new friends, this person had known where she was. He sent her here, and knew that she remained. He knew where she was, who she was, how to get into the apartment.

He was coming for her.

Her heart pounded against the sides of her chest, and when she tried to breathe there wasn’t any air in the room. She curled up under the blanket, wrapping her arms around her legs and burying her face into her knees. She was trapped. An animal in a cage, being hunted by the faceless evil that lurked in the woods. She had nowhere to go, nowhere that she could be safe. Time was ticking away the seconds of her miserable life, and she had blithely ignored it because she thought friends were all that she needed. Now she had them, and it would all be destroyed when the clock struck doom.

The apartment that had only moments ago started to feel like home suddenly felt like the surface of the moon. It was alien, foreign, cold and harsh. She had crash landed on a planet without air, and all this time that she thought she’d been breathing she was really choking on false hope.

Nicky curled into herself further, her eyes peering into the motionless darkness, and she waited, terrified, for her end to come.

_I will come for you._

***

He had arrived.

He took his phone out, looking at the blackened screen. There were so many things that he wished he could have said, so many explanations that he wished he could have given. They would only bring pain, though, and he had vowed to be the one to carry that burden. There was so much of it, so much that he thought he would collapse beneath the mass, a knot of writhing hatred and despair tied neatly around his back. If he had wings, he wouldn’t be able to fly. If he had strength, surely it would fail. Yet still he continued, because his heart would allow no other options.

So he would lie. He would fix this. He would right this, and they would never have to know the awful truth. The truth that kept him up at night, the truth that hid in the shadows swallowing his eyes. Nicolette would just be a new member, and nothing more. Mysteries and lies, but they would spare them. They would keep their hearts from feeling everything that he carried. That knot could not belong to them, he would do his best to see to that. 

The temple loomed above him on the mountaintop, green rooftops glinting in the silver moonlight. Ghostly fog wound around the lanterns, the bastard children of clouds sinking to the ground to hide the despondency within. He couldn’t see the stars anymore, even when the night was clear, but he looked up at the sky anyways, imagining that he could feel their light through the cold, misting rain. If he believed hard enough, maybe the drops of drizzle would become stars, a million points of sparkling salvation falling to earth to save them all.

If she saw them, would she remember? Would she come back to the light?

He placed his phone in the bag with his other things, tossing it into the hole in the ground. He could feel the dirt on his hands, but he didn’t care. He used his fingers to grasp the soil and pile it over his hiding place, covering his effects until he could return to them later. With any luck he would still be able to see well enough to find them.

Then he turned, straightening his cloak, heavier than he would have normally worn as he donned his disguise. With his hidden identity came so much burden, the weight of all the lives in the world resting on his shoulder.

None heavier than hers.

V walked into the temple, leaving behind everything else in the world, and followed the path to salvation. And if it wasn’t salvation, he would accept the penalties of hell as well.


	9. Out of Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven learns about Unknown's appearance and Jumin meets his fiance.

Her eyes were the only thing showing over the top of the covers, but he could tell she was smirking anyways. She was full of life, and light, like she radiated something intangible and wonderful that those of this world could hardly understand until they saw her. He wanted nothing more than to hold that essence, to take her in his arms and know what it was like to be made of shimmering promise, to feel it and taste it through her lips. He raised his hand, a hesitant finger brushing against her cheek. She was so soft, and so very precious. He curved his hand below the edge of the blanket and slowly started to pull it down, revealing her radiance inch by inch, her red hair curling in waves along her neck, over her bare shoulders…

“Oy, why are you sleeping?!”

Seven grimaced, one eye cracking open just enough to see Agent Vanderwood standing at the edge of his bed, hands on her hips and a frown on her face. He rolled over, burying his head back into the pillow, praying fervently that he would be granted just a few more moments of sleep. He hadn’t gotten more than a couple of hours, since he had laid awake, staring at his ceiling and pondering the various injustices of his existence. He was exhausted, and right now he hated the entire world. He would have plenty of time to complete their project later that afternoon, so he had no idea what was up Vanderwood’s ass this morning.

Plus, if he slept, he might actually get to see what had been under those covers.

Vanderwood’s boot hit the side of his ribs, and he yelped and rolled away from the blow, tumbling out of bed in a mess of blankets and irritation.

“Get to work, or your lazy ass is going to get us in trouble.” She shook her head at him, almost pityingly, before trouncing off to invade his kitchen and help herself to his coffee.

He scrubbed the palm of his hand over his face, reaching the other one over to fumble across the surface of his nightstand until he could find his glasses. The world was a blur of shape and color, and if he looked at his bed some of the covers were still rumpled enough that he could almost imagine it had been real, and that she was there, just waiting for him to return.

Of course, that was a stupid thing to imagine, because it could never happen.

He pushed off from the floor and dragged himself into the bathroom, the tile cold against his bare feet. The thick ceramic felt as though it had absorbed the outside air, the early freeze of late autumn beginning to set in to shake the last of the leaves from the trees. He wondered if it was sunny today, or if the rain had returned to them again. Did she like the rain? He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling she would. He could picture her curled up with a cup of tea, sitting at the window and watching the grey sky shift and shed tears on the world below.

He caught a glance of the stupid-happy grin plastered on his face in the mirror, and in an instant it turned into a frown. _Idiot._ He leaned forward, turning on the faucet, and then thought better of it and switched over to the shower instead, twisting until the water was hot enough to fill the bathroom with steam. He tossed his pajamas to the side and stepped in, letting the scalding water act as a restorative to his senses, letting it drain away his worries, if only for the moment. Not once did she leave his thoughts, lingering at the back of his mind as though she had been tattooed there, melded into a permanent part of his brain, but he at least felt more at peace with that once he was out. This was his lot in life, and he had to accept it. She would trap him in whatever spell she held over him, and he would live alone thinking about what could have been if the world hadn’t been so cruel. He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded back to his bedroom, ignoring the glare that Vanderwood gave him at the halfway mark.

He was throwing on another shirt when he noticed the small blinking light on his phone.

**3 missed calls from Jaehee Kang**

That was odd. Jaehee never called him. Even when it was something important, she usually preferred to just send a text or email. He picked up the phone and tapped her number, listening to it ring while he wondered what had caused the change in pattern. He didn’t much care for it when patterns changed. Patterns were predictable, and even perceived alterations usually fell within other, larger patterns. This didn’t.

“Luciel! Did you get my messages?” her voice sounded higher than usual, laced with the taint of anxiety. Also out of pattern.

“No, I just saw you called, so I called back right away. What’s up?” he sounded tired, even to himself, and he shook his head, wishing it were so easy to shake away too many nights of too little sleep.

“Did you see the chatroom?” her words were carefully monotone, but still they incited a bright edge of panic around his mind.

“No, I just got up, haven’t seen anything yet.”

“You should. I’m worried. Something’s happened, and Nicky hasn’t been on since, and she isn’t responding to messages from myself or Zen.”

“Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker.” He pressed the button, then tapped his way through the menus until he reached the chatroom. He started scrolling through the various messages from the others, all filled with worry, fear, and panic, though at the speed his was scrolling it was difficult to discern why.

“Apparently, it happened just after we logged out last night. Yoosung is terrified, and Zen has been demanding we march over to the apartment to check on Nicky. Jumin hasn’t seen it yet, he left for work early and I haven’t had a chance to inform him of the situation.”

“Hang on, I’m almost there, let me see what the fuss is about…”

Then he saw it. Just above the early morning log ins that Zen and Yoosung usually did, the pair of them looking for Nicky to pester her about breakfast. It had taken them a few minutes, but they had eventually seen it too. All of Seven’s blood ran cold, as icy as the deep winter that was wrapping around his heart, black panic swallowing his mind.

That Unknown bastard had come back, and he had talked to her. _Threatened_ her.

“I see it, I’m on it.” He snapped the words into the phone and disconnected the call, his fingers flying to Nicky’s number without hesitation.

_Please pick up, please be okay_ _…_

***

It was not yet eight, and still his head was already beginning to show signs of protest to his early morning rise. The faint throbbing started somewhere in the center of his mind, radiating out in languid pulses, begging him to lay down and rest. He resisted, as he always did. Pain was just like any other nuisance brought on by his human frailties, and could be ignored if one had enough determination and resolve.

Still, he acceded some respite for himself, and he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple with a hand already cramped from writing. It had been necessary to make so many notations on the proposal in front of him, and he wondered if he should just rewrite it himself, and fire the imbecile who had done it in the first place. A typo on the first page was unacceptable. He sighed, knowing that the resources it would require to hire someone new would still outweigh the cost it would take to train the person already filling the position. He didn’t even know their name, but he knew that they were not improving his headache, and so in this moment he hated them.

There was a soft click at the front of the room, followed by the subtle stir in the air that indicated to him that someone was entering his office. Their heels clicked against the floor as they strode forward, and he presumed Jaehee had come to provide him additional work to complete before noon. She almost seemed fond of piling more responsibility on his shoulders, although he was aware that was what he paid her for. He was grateful that she took her job seriously enough to do it even when it brought his scorn. It was difficult to find someone willing to stand up to him even that much. Perhaps he should pay her more.

He hadn’t opened his eyes, knowing that she would speak whether he bid her to or not, which was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when cold hands wound around his neck. He swatted them away, standing out of his chair and taking several steps back, his gaze widening to encompass the woman who had dared to touch him. He was relieved that it was not Jaehee, since that would have been cause for a shocking demise to her employment with him, but the idea that a stranger had waltzed into his office and laid hands on him gave him no more comfort.

“Hello, Jumin.” Her lips were painted glossy red and full of pout, dipped low and pushed out. She wore heavy makeup, painted like a canvas, an unnatural smear of deep blue above her brown eyes. Her hair was worn long and loose, draped down her back like a curtain of chestnut waves, and she tossed it over her shoulder as she looked at him, which revealed the low neckline of a dress so tight he was surprised she could breathe. Then again, judging by the strange, stiff swing to her step, perhaps she couldn’t.

“Who the hell are you?” his fury leeched into his words, cold and icy as he glared at her, willing her to disappear, willing this to have been some terrible figment of his imagination caused by the headache. “More to the point, who the hell let you in?”

She smirked, taking a long step forward, swaying her hips in an unnatural way as she did so. “I apologize, I thought they would have told you that I was stopping by. Silly me.”

She took another step forward, and he took another step back, involuntarily. The office was suddenly too small, the building too small, the entire world too small for him to be able to get enough space from this woman.

“Don’t be shy, I won’t bite.” She grinned wide, pearly white teeth flashing between her bright lips. “Unless that’s what you want.”

“I’ll repeat myself, but I will warn you I greatly dislike doing so. Who are you and who let you in?”

She took another leisurely stride forward, this one longer than the last, closing the distance between them inch by inch. “Your security team let me in, I have clearance from Mr. Han.” She giggled, tapping a ruby red nail against her chin. “Well, Mr. Han _senior,_ I suppose.”

“My…my father?”

She nodded, taking another step. “Yes. I met him yesterday, I’m a student of Glam’s.”

Jumin’s mind searched for a moment, his eyes narrowing before he recalled that was the name of the woman his father had brought to lunch. Some celebrity, he thought. He cared little for such things, so he had not taken much notice to the magazine articles and gossip. All the women were the same in the end, what did it matter if more people recognized this one’s face?

“Anyways,” she took another stride forward, just a step or so away from him now. “I was quite taken with your father. He is a very admirable man. You must feel very honored to be able to work with him.” Another step. “He mentioned that he’s been looking for a good partner for you for some time, and he suggested that I might be a…qualified candidate.” She stepped into his personal space, placing a hand on his chest and leaning in, her chin tilted up so that she could look in his eyes. “What do you think, fiancé?”

His headache was roaring through his skull, threatening to swallow him in pain and confusion, no longer content to be ignored. Fiancé? He blinked, staring out of the window, not looking at the woman draping herself onto him like a necklace, not seeing the grey clouds marring the sky, not seeing anything as he spiraled into madness. The woman - who had yet to give her name, he realized - pressed the length of her body against him, and he felt like an animal, a jittery mouse trapped in the claws of a hawk. Strange, clammy hands worked their way through the hair at the nape of his neck, and he felt her breath ghost across his cheek. He wanted to be sick, his stomach rolling in waves and crashing against the ache in his head, bile rising in the back of his throat. Was this what it felt like to be touched now? Was this how it would feel to hold Nicolette?

Something snapped deep within him, and he grabbed the woman’s arms and shoved her away, sending her stumbling backwards. “Get out.”

“Jumin, honey, I’m sorry I must have come on too strong. I’m just very thrilled with our engagement.”

“Get out.” He didn’t look at her as he strode to his desk, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and throwing it over his shoulders, his spine rigid with tension.

“Please, let’s start again. Your father really wants this to work.”

_His father._ He felt like the sky had grown mass and weight, and fallen on top of his head. Things he couldn’t explain or understand churned within him, dark and black, seeping through his chest until he felt that when he opened his mouth nothing but inky smoke would pour forth. He felt so… _wrong._ He kept feeling her breath on his cheek even though she was nowhere near him, as though she had marked his skin permanently. He was irreparably soiled by her hands, her gaze, her red lips staining his soul.

“ _Get. Out._ _”_ He growled the words, no more than a beast of fury and hatred, seething with the darkness that was dragging him down, deep into a place he did not want to go. There lay everything he ignored, there lay all the pieces of himself that he kept carefully contained, controlling himself so that he never had to face them. He was drowning in the fragments of his heart that were ruthlessly silenced at the dawn of each day, and it was all because of the wretched creature standing before him.

“I…I can see you’re upset. I’ll talk to you another time, love.” She turned and scampered out of the office, and he clenched his fist, fingernails digging into his palm until he felt warm blood dripping around them.

As the woman left, Jaehee entered, blinking in surprise as she swept by, her unbound hair swishing behind her. She shook her head, regaining her composure, but there was something in her eyes that wasn’t standard, that was out of pattern.

“Mr. Han -”

“I’m going out. I will return later this afternoon.” He snapped the words before she could finish her sentence, uninterested in work, uninterested in speaking with her, uninterested in knowing if her eyes could see the broiling loathing in his own.

He moved around her, grabbing the door and wrenching it open, walking out into the hall.

“Wait, Mr. Han, there’s something that you should know -”

“Later.” He slammed the button for the elevator, and was relieved when the door opened immediately, the chamber beyond blissfully empty. He stepped in and let the door close, the last thing in his sight Jaehee’s stricken face. He couldn’t face whatever it was she had for him, couldn’t face questions or concerns, couldn’t face anything while his head was pounding and his heart struggled to keep beating.

He closed his eyes as the elevator carried him down, and let the darkness wash over him, wishing that he could put a name to the turmoil inside of him. It was too much, all-consuming, and he just wanted it to go away. He would do anything to drive it from him, this feeling in his chest, this unpronounceable word on his lips. Nothing could save him, nothing could hold him together. He took a shaking breath, and sent out a desperate prayer, hoping for a miracle to ease his suffering.

He had been assaulted, violated in a way that he had thought was impossible for someone in his position. Jumin Han had never been made to feel the mouse, and yet today he found himself shaking and small, cowed into a moment of complete inaction while his mind drifted to shadows and anguish. He had been…he was…he had a very deep sense of it, just aware enough to know it was there.

Then it came to him, as the elevator doors dinged open and he all but ran out of the building, reveling in the freezing air as he walked in an aimless direction, uncaring about where he went. He knew what it was that made him feel like his chest was broken open and his heart was filled with pins. He knew what it was that made his eyes feel glassy and his legs stiff and stilted. He knew what it was that was so much worse than the woman, so much worse than her hands or her breath. It was deeper than that, more raw and awful than that, and he knew the word that described it perfectly.

_Betrayal._


	10. Pretty Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky pretends that it's fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm spamming you guys with chapters. I could wait to post them, but I am not a patient person lol so here have 80k words a week this is fine, everything's fine.

There was a point in the middle of the sky blue wall that she had become very familiar with.

She had been staring at it all night, blinking only when her dry eyes formed tears of desperation and forced her to usher the blur from her vision. She had stared as the lights of the world reflected through the window, as the sun had risen and turned the sky pale grey, as the drops of rain smattering against the glass had created translucent shadows along the wall. She hadn’t moved, she hadn’t spoken. She had done nothing but stare, wide eyed, at the spotless space in front of her, waiting for the end to come. She was too scared to do more than breathe, ragged gasps coming and going from her lungs, her heart beating itself to tatters in her chest. What if Unknown was coming now? What if they were at the door already? Peering through the peephole and waiting for her to move, waiting for her to leave the bedroom. The bed felt like the last bastion of safety that she had, and she clung to it, lost in a sea of petrifying darkness that was impenetrable and hers alone.

At some point people had started trying to reach her, but she had lost count of the notifications for messages and the missed calls. She wasn’t sure what time they had started filtering in. Her phone had gone off multiple times, but she didn’t want to reach for it. Moving felt impossible, a relic of the past that had been forgotten by her limbs. She didn’t want to move and grab the phone, didn’t want to open the chatroom and see the conversation again. Unknown’s words felt like eyes, constantly on her, seeing through her shiny facade and into the things she wanted to hide underneath, everything that she had prayed to God that she could leave behind. She his text wiped from history, deleted along with everything that it had dumped in her lap. She wanted to go back to a day ago, where her biggest concern was planning a party, and keeping Seven from eating chips for dinner. It had been a lie, a fragile lie that had shattered so readily as soon as reality had come crashing down, but it had been a beautiful lie, and she missed it dearly.

Her ring tone echoed through the room again, and she turned from the light, shrinking further into the blanket. They couldn’t help her. Anything she shared with them would only bring them worries, would only bring the threat that much closer to themselves. Unknown would find them through her, she knew it. She didn’t want to risk it. She let it ring and go to voicemail, not wanting to know what it was they had to say.

There was a second of blaring silence before the phone started ringing again. It was the same string of music, the same notes of the song, but somehow it seemed more insistent this time. Somehow she could feel the desperation of the person on the other end of the line. She glanced at the screen, her eyelids heavy, her vision arid so that shapes and lights smeared together in long streaks in front of her. Still, she would recognize that hair and those glasses even if she were nearly blind. Her bright star, come to guide her home.

She wanted to answer, but she couldn’t move. She had become a statue in the night, molded into place as solidly as the spot on the empty wall. She was stone and he was life, she was ice and he was fire. She longed for his laugh, for the warmth that his words could bring to her, but she didn’t want to drag him down to the place of fear that she existed in now. She only wanted to see him laugh, and Unknown had stolen that from her. They had stolen her life when they sent her here, stolen her safety when they messaged her, and now they had stolen the one thing she had wanted to be able to do, because now she would make Seven miserable.

Her capacity for disappointing others never failed to astound her.

The phone went silent and the screen dimmed. Then it started up again, barely a pause between attempts.

She smirked, in spite of everything she was feeling, in spite of her stiff muscles and aching heart. _He certainly is persistent_ _…_

It took all of the strength she had left, but she reached over and answered the phone.

“Hello?” her voice cracked around the word, as though she had spent the night screaming. In her head she had, but she couldn’t remember if she had ever done so out loud. The wall would know, but it would never tell, a silent sentinel who had borne witness to her implosion.

“Thank God, Nicky are you alright? Why didn’t you answer? Is everything okay?!”

“I’m fine.” The words meant nothing. She couldn’t remember if they were ever supposed to mean something, but she spouted them off, as mechanical as a robot. She was programmed to be fine. It was the only option. If she was anything else, if she had to explain out loud that she was anything else, then she would crack and crumble to dust. Full system error.

“God, I saw the chat. Are you really okay?”

Her mind went blank, like her favorite spot on the wall, the cracks and fissures filling up with numb acceptance. Paste and paint to keep the flaws hidden away. Silence filled the spaces where her fear lingered, mashing it down below the calming serenity of mute inaction.

“Nicky?!”

She shook her head, remembering her programming. “I don’t want you to worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

His sigh rustled the edges of the silence, a warm breeze in the dying leaves before they fell. “Eh, so _stubborn_. I can hear that you’re not -” a voice interrupted whatever he was going to say, and she heard him say something in a language she didn’t recognize that sounded remarkably like a curse. “I have to go, my maid Vanderwood is yelling at me and I have to get to work. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay. Goodbye Seven, have a good day at work.” She sounded like she was made of wood, a violin missing its strings, her only notes a hollow knock that matched the one she waited for, the one that would echo from the door when Unknown arrived.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and she could feel him hesitate, could feel his doubt. “Everything’s gonna to be fine, I promise.”

“Okay.”

The woman there with him yelled something again, and he finally disconnected, the click echoing in her ear.

_Everything_ _’s gonna to be fine._

She didn’t believe it, but she could pretend like she did. She threw off the covers and went to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and twisting her hair into a messy bun to keep it away from her eyes. Then she strolled down the hall and into the living room, perching herself at the edge of the couch. She felt like a nervous bird, ready to take flight at the barest of sounds, but she forced herself to stay put. The thumbed her phone unlocked and opened the chatroom, ignoring the chaos that had been happening all morning and focusing only on the moment.

**Nicolette: Morning boys!**

**ZEN: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN**

**ZEN: ARE YOU OKAY?**

**ZEN: I** **’VE BEEN CALLING EVERY HOUR**

**Nicolette: Sorry, I was sleeping and didn** **’t hear the phone**

Lies. Pretty lies that painted a better picture for them. She was a bird, a little thing with wings that wouldn’t spread, trapped in a gilded cage at the butcher shop. Her feathers were bright and cheerful, to help her hide the black in her eyes. She would sing a better song than the lonely, terror stricken one that filled her chest.

**Yoosung: What happened last night?**

**Yoosung: we saw the chat**

**Yoosung: why didn** **’t you call anyone??**

**Nicolette: Sorry ^^ I figured it wasn** **’t that big of a deal**

**ZEN: Nicky, are you okay?**

**Nicolette: Yep, I** **’m fine!**

She was so grateful that they couldn’t hear her voice, couldn’t see how many typos she went through before she hit send, her fingers trembling around the curve of her phone. She shivered, feeling as though she would never be warm again, feeling as though she was a snowstorm spiraling out of control.

**ZEN: Can I call you?**

**Yoosung: omg T_T I** **’ve been so scared for you**

**Yoosung: you can** **’t ever stop answering your phone like that again**

**Nicolette: we can talk on the phone later, if you want Zen**

**Nicolette: I** **’m in the middle of breakfast now**

**Nicolette: and Yoosung I** **’m sorry you were worried >.>**

**Nicolette: I** **’m such a ditz I can’t believe I forgot to turn the ringer on before I went to bed**

**ZEN:** **…**

**ZEN: Dammit, I have to go, I have a meeting.**

**ZEN: Nicky I** **’m calling you right after**

**ZEN: YOU HAD BETTER ANSWER**

**ZEN: Or I** **’m coming over there I don’t care what the fuck V has to say about it**

**Nicolette: Chill! It** **’s all good, I’ll be here haha not like I can go anywhere else**

**Nicolette: Good luck in you** **’re meeting!**

Trying to be happy felt so strange, so foreign to her at the moment. She tried to remember how she used to talk, how she was supposed to respond, but it felt more difficult to do so by the minute. She knew the song and dance by heart, but her heart was no longer in it. Where had she put that serene smile that had weathered her through the court case? She had tucked it deep down inside, pretending she could lose it, pretending she was done with it. She had forgotten it in only a few short days. It was time she found it again. It hurt more to think that, this time. It hurt to think she could be in that place again.

**ZEN: Talk to you _VERY SOON_ , OKAY?**

**ZEN: Stay safe.**

**_ZEN has left the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung:** **…**

**Yoosung: Are you really okay? Really really?**

**Nicolette: Yes ^_^**

**Yoosung: and you** **’re eating breakfast? It’s almost lunch…**

**Nicolette: I slept in a bit :p**

**Yoosung: I hate this.**

**Yoosung: I hate that V won** **’t let us go there with you.**

**Yoosung: I want to see that you** **’re okay for myself.**

**Nicolette: Thanks, but really it** **’s not necessary.**

**Yoosung: Okay. I have to get to class** **…I can skip, if you want me to stay and talk to you**

**Nicolette: No! I don** **’t want your grades to suffer on my account**

**Nicolette: go be the amazing student I know you can be!**

**Yoosung:** **…**

**Yoosung: Okay. Promise me you** **’ll still be here when I get back?**

**Nicolette: I** **’m not going anywhere.**

**Yoosung: Good. We don** **’t want to lose you!**

**Nicolette: thanks! <3 Now go, before you** **’re late!**

**Yoosung: take care!**

**_Yoosung has left the chatroom._ **

****

She was so drained, even from simple typing, that she thought she might expire from exhaustion. What a surprise that would be for Unknown, when they came for her only to find her already dead. She could find her own paradise, far from their reach. Though she knew that was a lie, too. There was no paradise without her friends. She was irrevocably connected to them, tied and bound in ways that shouldn’t yet be possible. There was no world where she could be happy without their presence, without Zen’s ridiculous flirting and Jumin’s subtle, brooding humor. Without Yoosung and Jaehee and their endless and varied problems. Without Seven, and…and everything that he was.

She was about to put her phone down, thinking that perhaps if she stared at the ceiling and imagined her own paradise she would find enough peace to sleep, when another message popped up on screen, directly from Jaehee.

**Jaehee: Are you okay? I saw that you got back on the chat.**

**Jaehee: I was worried.**

**Nicolette: sorry to worry you guys ;;**

**Jaehee: but you** **’re okay?**

**Nicolette: Yes, right as rain!**

**Jaehee: okay, good, because I need your help**

**Jaehee: I have no idea what else to do**

**Jaehee: Jumin has disappeared from work, and I don** **’t know where he is or when he’s coming back**

**Jaehee: I have people calling me about canceled meetings and a stack of paperwork that keeps growing**

**Jaehee: And he seemed really bothered by something when he left**

Nicky frowned at her phone. What could have happened now? She wasn’t sure which outcome she feared more, that Unknown had done something to Jumin too, or something else had gone wrong with his father. She couldn’t help feeling some relief, however. This was something she could take action on, a task that would distract her from everything she felt trying to choke the air out of her lungs. Even if she was broken in a hundred different places, she could still find a way to help.

**Nicolette: Hm, that is unlike him. I** **’ll try to contact him and see what I can do.**

**Nicolette: I** **’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.**

**Jaehee: THANK YOU**

**Jaehee: I know you have been through a lot and are probably not feeling very good right now**

**Jaehee: But you were the only one I could think to turn to.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m fine. Nicky to the rescue!**

**Jaehee: Thank you a thousand times. I have to go, there is an oil company representative standing outside of Jumin** **’s office looking furious, I need to diffuse the situation. Good luck getting a hold of him!**

**Nicolette: Thanks, good luck to you too!**

She closed out the chat window and switched to the contacts, pulling up Jumin’s number and hitting the call button. It rang six times without going to voicemail, and she was beginning to think he had turned it off when he finally answered.

“Hello, Nicolette.” He sounded strange, more distant than he usually did.

“Jumin, I heard that you left work. Is everything alright?”

“Assistant Kang has enlisted you to chase after me, I see.”

She smiled, the barest laugh poking through her mood, but it didn’t feel right, it felt unlike her. _Wooden._ “She’s just worried about you.”

“She’s worried about the company.” He was lacking something that was normally present in his voice. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but its absence disturbed her.

“That too, but I think that’s because the company is important to you.” She sighed, switching the phone to her other ear. “Did something happen?”

“No. Yes. Technically yes, but I do not wish to whine about things. I do not wish to make it into something more.” He sounded indecisive for the first time since she had known him, and that was when she knew what was missing from his tone. He lacked confidence, and it made him sound eerily small and lonely.

“You can talk to me, you know. I promise I won’t judge you for complaining.”

He exhaled slowly, and she imagined that he must be closing his eyes and trying to remain calm. “You are…very kind.”

“I try.”

“Very well. A woman came to my office today.”

Nicky tilted her head to the side, frowning. “Is that unusual? Are there not many women that work there?”

“No, not at all, we have a number of capable and qualified female employees. She was not one of them.”

“Oh.” Nicky blinked, unsure what else she should say to respond.

“She said…she expressed interest in a physical relationship with me, and told me that my father had arranged for us to be engaged.”

Nicky choked on the breath in her throat, coughing as she tried to wrap her mind around what he had just said. “Your father tried to arrange your marriage?!”

“If the woman can be believed, then yes.” He sounded furious, and wounded. An alley cat backed into the corner, drenched in the rain.

Nicky licked her dry lips. “Any chance she was lying?”

He was silent for several beats before he finally answered. “It’s possible, but I doubt it. She seemed too shocked when I kicked her out.”

“Go Jumin, throw her out on her ass! Unless…I assume that you’re not considering the idea, are you?”

“God no.” Finally a trickle of humor worked its way back into his voice, and she saw a flicker of the Jumin she had come to know. “She was as foul as all the women my father dates. I have less than zero interest in such a person.” He paused, and she thought she could hear him smiling. “I did not throw her, though I find the image amusing.”

“From the sounds of it, maybe you should have. I can’t believe she’s trying to arrange a marriage in this day and age! Last time I checked, that was in very poor taste!”

“It’s not something I ever thought my father would consider.” The weight of his words dragged the conversation back down into sadness, and she wanted to weep on his behalf.

“Jumin, I’m so sorry. I’m sure…I’m sure he didn’t know how much it would have bothered you, or else he wouldn’t have thought up such a thing.”

“Then that would mean he doesn’t know me at all.” He sighed, the breath trembling against the receiver. “Besides, I very much doubt it was his idea. This Glam woman he’s seeing is no doubt behind the entire thing.”

“Sounds like a real criminal mastermind.” She was gratified when he laughed again, a breathy chuckle that brightened his voice. “You want me to beat her up?”

This time his laugh was more than a chuckle, and she heard it echo in the air around the phone. “You? I would not ask you to do something so uncouth.”

Her lips twitched, almost enough to be a full smile, almost enough to make her feel like herself. “You sure? I’m fierce. I could, like, smash a violin over her head.”

“No, no. I don’t think violence would solve the deeper problem. But I am strangely pleased that you offered.”

“Anytime.” She sighed, wishing she could see him to know if he still looked as despondent as he sounded, yet knowing that seeing anyone was the last thing she wanted to do. They would just notice the pain in her own eyes and reflect it back at her. “Anyways, are you okay?”

“I think so. I will be now that I’ve talked to you, I think.”

“Glad I could help. Are you gonna go back to work before Jaehee’s hair falls out?”

He laughed again, fully embracing it this time. “Yes, I suppose I should. Thank you for listening to me. It is…it is good to have someone understand.”

“Of course. Like I said, anytime.”

“I’ll try to remember that. I should go, I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to, and as you say, I should get back to work. Thank you again, and I hope you have a pleasant afternoon.”

He disconnected, and she let the phone fall onto the couch, staring at the carpet and breathing deeply. Silence filled her to the brim, running over her edges and bleeding into the room around her. Everything was still, and empty, and she felt herself becoming the statue once more, receding deeper into herself until she turned into stone, immovable and invincible.

She was alone again. Alone in the apartment.

She fervently wished to keep it all within herself, to hide it from them so that they stopped worrying about her, so that they didn’t have to share this pain. Still, as she curled around herself, becoming as small as she could on the broad cushions of the couch, she wished desperately that someone could be there with her.

At least then she wouldn’t disappear without a trace whenever Unknown finally arrived.


	11. Watching Over You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven thinks of something to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one day, I'm on fire...figuratively.

His fingers shook, but he kept typing. A line of code here, a run command there, seventeen windows open and running on his desktop. He could hear the fans in the computer kicking into overdrive, the cooling system working double time as he pushed the processing capabilities to their limits. He sent out seven probing packets towards the agency’s target, launching them like missiles in a full scale assault, and then he closed the door that he had used to get in so they couldn’t be traced back to him. He triggered another search, using different keys, sifting through the system tied to the RFA, wishing that he had more hands and more fingers to type faster. He needed an army of himself to get everything done, and no matter how much caffeine he downed and how much he shook his head to clear the fog from his mind, he still couldn’t get it all done.

He was furious with himself for letting everything happen, his heart full of resentment because he had failed to protect everyone. All he wanted to do was take the time to make things right, but Vanderwood was leering over his shoulder like a starving jackal, hounding him to finish the work for the Agency. His mind was split in three places, divided as though he had been speared by a trident. _Not quite._ He smirked at himself, but it held no humor. It would be more correct to say that his _attention_ was split, since his mind was actually focused on exactly one thing, and it was destroying his concentration for anything else he tried to do.

All Seven could think about was the hollow sound in her beautiful voice when she had insisted that she was fine.

He sent off another set of packets and ran a new subroutine in his system, searching like a hound trailing the sent of blood. Somewhere there would be a lead, a theoretical bent blade of grass in the field of commands and logs. Somewhere he would find the broken pieces of code that had let this bastard in, and then he would be able to follow the hacker’s methods until they led Seven right to him. His system whirred to life, chugging away as it followed his orders, unable to handle any more. It gave him a moment, a brief interlude where everything was loading and his hands could be given pause, and so without delay he snatched up his phone, pulling open the app faster than he ever had before.

**707: You don** **’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.**

There was a long, bitter stretch of time in which she didn’t respond, and his heart sank lower with each tick of his internal clock. He wanted to cheer when he finally saw her eyes pop up next to the text on the screen, a sight he would never, ever tire of seeing.

**Nicolette: thank you. I appreciate it.**

He frowned, adjusting his glasses as though seeing clearly would change how the words looked, would change the fact that they didn’t feel like hers. Even through text she seemed stiff, off from her normal self. When he had spoken to her on the phone it was like talking to a ghost, like she had already been taken from him and the only thing that remained was her disappointment to keep him company. Her fear was tangible, and her denial of it a bitter pill that he had to swallow. He wanted to fling Vanderwood out the window and run to her, to look her in the eyes and say whatever it took to bring back her beautiful light. He hated to think that she was over there in the empty apartment, worried or sad or scared. He hated to think that she was alone.

**707: Listen, I know that you don** **’t feel safe right now**

**707: But I promise I will protect you**

**707: I** **’ll stop this hacker, super agent 707 never fails!**

The joke felt stupid, even to him. All his assurances felt stupid, like they didn’t mean anything, because he couldn’t throw himself at the problem until he finished work for the agency. Nicky didn’t respond, and his algorithms finished, so he had to put down his phone before Vanderwood had some sort of embolism behind him.

Shit, his calculations had been off, everything had been bounced back through the defending security system. Not a single shred of information had been filtered properly. His shoulders slumped even as he threw his hands back on the keys, endless clicking filling the room as he typed. He was worthless at this right now. If only he could just take some time to get rid of this hacker son of a bitch, then he could concentrate. He rolled his eyes as Vanderwood paced languidly behind him, knowing there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he would be able to talk her into backing off.

He rewrote everything, all the while stealing glances at his phone, waiting for Nicky to say something, anything. He routed a line of code to loop around a redundancy, so that it wouldn’t trip the same warning systems on the other end. He jammed his finger on the send button, and knew that if he was successful he would have thirty minutes before the little seeds bore the fruit of his labor. He pulled up the screens for the RFA, looking over the lines of commands in the security system. He couldn’t figure out where this guy was getting in. Security checks for the apartment seemed clean, door locks functioning as normal and in line with Nicky’s entrances and exits, sensors detecting no abnormalities…

_Of course!_

He had a thought, and it gave him more hope than he had felt in the last three hours combined. He picked up the phone, his fingers flying across the letters to send his message.

**707: Would you feel better if I could watch over you?**

**Nicolette: Yes.**

**Nicolette: I mean, how?**

He smiled wide, so relieved that he wanted to laugh or cry or do both at the same time.

**707: the security system, there are cameras**

**707: They** **’re deactivated right now, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable**

**707: but if you want I can turn them on**

**707: In fact, I would like it if you would let me do that.**

**707: Then I could see you with my own eyes, and know that you** **’re safe.**

**Nicolette: Okay that**

**Nicolette: Yes, please do that, I would feel much better knowing you could see me.**

The speed of her responses gave him energy, and he grinned as he set to work. He punched in the commands to run the camera program, activating the security protocols that would be required. This time his fingers shook from excitement and relief instead of fear and exhaustion. He swiveled in his chair and flipped a switch on the screen to his right, and in an instant he had a clear view of the living room and hallway in the apartment. He couldn’t see the bedroom, or much of the kitchen, but it would have to be enough.

She was sitting on the couch, and she looked like an impressionist painting of the girl that he was used to seeing in her selfies. Her skin was pale and drawn of color, and there were dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. She looked so exhausted, so much more than he felt himself, but still she was the most welcome sight he had ever seen. She was curled up as much as she could be, clutching her phone, wearing a pair of pajamas with cats riding on spaceships printed all over them.

**Nicolette: When will they be on?**

**707: Already are, I can see your beautiful face right now.**

**707: Nice pajamas~**

He watched on the screen as she smiled, and a rush of warmth spread through his chilled limbs. A bit of color returned to her cheeks as she started typing.

**Nicolette: Haha, that better not have been sarcastic, these pajamas are fabulous**

**707: Sarcastic? ME?!?!**

He watched, enraptured, as she tipped back her head and laughed, some of her hair falling loose to curl around the side of her face. He couldn’t hear her, but he could see very clearly when her eyes lit up, they way her lips parted as her chest shook, the way she kept smirking even after she had finished and was glancing back at her phone.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen.

**Nicolette: Where are the cameras?**

He grinned to himself, since he had known that question was coming.

**707: Hmmmm** **…**

**707: Look to your left.**

She did, but her eyes grazed too far and didn’t find their target.

**707: Warmer, but too far.**

 

She looked back towards the right, and slightly upward, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated.

**707: Warmer** **…**

She tilted her head to the side, knocking more of her hair free and sending it spilling across her shoulder in ruby waves. Her eyes fell just beneath the center of the lens.

**707: Oh, heating up, practically burning~~**

Then she saw it, and she locked eyes with him through the screens and miles between them. She smiled, and it was like the sun had returned to the world after a thousand years of darkness. Tundras thawed and life was born anew, all from the brilliant shine in the middle of her eyes. Then she waved and stuck out her tongue, and he wished that she could hear how much it made him laugh.

**707: Oh-ho, is that how it is then?**

**707: Maybe I** **’ll just turn these back off, hm?**

**Nicolette: Now that** **’s** **_definitely_ ** **sarcastic.**

He sent over a shocked emoji, the glasses on his animated face breaking in mock horror.

**707: Nothing gets past you!**

She laughed again, and he wished desperately that he could be in the room when she did it, to feel the air fill up with the sound. He wanted to be right next to her, feeling her breath as it left her chest with every giggle.

**Nicolette: That** **’s right, and don’t you forget it!**

**707: Yes ma** **’am!**

**707: Anyways, I need to get back to work.**

**707: I hope that this makes you feel better**

**707: but I promise I** **’ll fix this.**

**707: So please don** **’t worry.**

**707: Talk to you soon, and if you get scared just remember**

**707: I** **’ll be watching over** **you.**

**707: So you** **’re not alone, okay?**

She made a face at her phone, an expression that he couldn’t quite understand. It looked like it was locked somewhere between a smile and a frown, her eyes glimmering and reflecting back too much light from the screen.

**Nicolette: Thank you Seven.**

**Nicolette: I feel much better knowing that.**

**Nicolette: Don** **’t work too hard ~**

Even after he read her words and watched her put her phone down, he still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the camera feed. He gaped, transfixed, as she picked up a bag that had been at the edge of the couch, rummaging through it for a moment and tossing things out with careless abandon, a small crease in her brow as she focused on her search. Finally her eyebrows lifted, and she pulled out a few sheets of paper triumphantly, somewhat crumpled from being stored in the bag. She laid them out on the couch, tilting them so that it looked like they were seated, honored guests for the evening meal, a row of paper friends. He squinted, but he couldn’t tell what was on the papers.

She spared a nervous glance over her shoulder, back at the camera, chewing on her lower lip. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, every part of him lighting up with nervous energy as he watched her move, watched her hair curl against her spine, watcher her eyelashes brush against the top of her cheeks. Then she turned back to the couch, standing up straight, and clasped her hands in front of her. She was tilted just enough so that he could still see her face, and her eyes closed as she opened her mouth, the muscles at the base of her throat twitching as she drew in a deeper breath. He didn’t need audio to know that she was singing, and he didn’t need to be there to know that the apartment would be flooded with the sound, lyrical notes spilling out in her beautiful voice.

His one warning was the firm click of a heeled boot before Vanderwood’s hand connected with the back of his head, knocking his glasses askew. He turned in his chair, glaring at her.

“Get back to work.”

He glanced at the screen, then back at Vanderwood. “Look, something came up. I need to take a break and get this thing with the RFA taken care of, then I’ll finish the agency’s job.”

“You don’t have time for a break. Look kid, you can’t help the RFA if you’re six feet under.” She was obstinate, and immovable wall blocking his path. “If you hadn’t been so distracted by them for the past three days you could have been done by now.”

“People could be in danger here, Vanderwood. I need to get to the bottom of it, and monitor things to make sure she’s…they’re all safe. Lives could be on the line.”

She rolled her eyes. _“Her_ life, you mean?”

He took a deep breath, sullen that he would have to answer. “Yes, fine, her life specifically.”

“Yeah, well _my_ life could be on the line if you don’t get your shit together, asshole.” She glared down at him, her arms crossed over her chest. He must have looked either angrier or more pathetic than he had intended, however, because after a few seconds she threw her hands up in the air. “Fine! We’ll compromise. You do what you’re supposed to do, and I’ll watch red here on the screen.” She jerked her thumb at Nicky, who was still singing, exuding light like the star that she was. She looked so much more like herself now, at least he had been able to accomplish that much.

Vanderwood raised her hand over his head again, and he cringed and held up his own in supplication. “Geez, fine, deal. Just stop hitting me, crazy woman.”

“You slack off anymore I’ll show you what crazy looks like. Get. To. Work.”

He turned his chair so that he was facing his desktop screen again, placing his hand on the keyboard and beginning to get back to work. Vanderwood hauled a chair over from across the room and set it in front of the video feed so that she could sit while she watched. He tried to focus on his work, but every few seconds his eyes wandered to the right, to the screen where Nicky was standing, or sitting, or walking across the room to fetch this or that. His throat went dry after half an hour of this pattern, and he realized that his concentration was shot.

Everything was coming down to him, and he was terrified that he wouldn’t be enough. Not for any of them, and not for her.

Seven swallowed, wondering how in the world he was going to pull himself together to get everything done.


	12. Far Softer Than the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin is having a pretty terrible day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys your comments are killing me and then reviving me and then killing me again, I love you all very much okay?

The horizon was heavy with the deep lavender of late evening when the knock came at the door, firm and insistent. Jumin lifted his eyes, blinking as he stared across the empty space, dimly lit by the shaded lamps. A glance at the clock told him that it was far too late for Jaehee to be bothering him, and if it was too late for her it was certainly too late for the rest of his employees. The knock resounded again, louder this time, and he sighed and set down his pen.

“Yes?”

The door opened, and he was surprised to see his father step in, easing it shut again behind him with steady hands. He strode across the room to the front of Jumin’s desk with long, powerful steps, confidence in every movement he made. Jumin stood, walking around to greet him, his arms open to embrace the only family member he had.

His father’s hug felt stiff and insincere, and it was Jumin’s first signal that something wasn’t right.

“Jumin, are you well?” when he smiled, his father’s eyes crinkled at the edges, lines of age settling into the skin more and more with each passing day.

“Yes. To what do I owe the honor of your visit? I had thought you were busy preparing for your trip to Europe.” Like clockwork, Jumin turned and opened the small cabinet to the left of his desk, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of brandy. It was expected of him to offer drinks, expected of him to do so without comment. He strove for perfection, and despite the fact that the muscles in his arms felt like lead, Jumin would meet and exceed his father’s expectations.

His father waved off the concern with a grimace, taking the proffered drink and shaking his head. “Bah, there are a dozen people buzzing around my place preparing for that trip. I’ll only interfere in their jobs if I stay.”

“I see.” Jumin smiled, but it was perfunctory. In truth he felt like he wanted to scowl, but years of obedience and courtesy lessons had taught him to control his face in the presence of his elders.

“So,” his father raised an eyebrow as he sat at the edge of Jumin’s desk, “what’s this I hear about you refusing to see Sarah?”

Jumin’s jaw clenched so tightly that he couldn’t bring himself to swallow around it, and he forced a long breath out through his nose before daring to answer. “I have no business with her.”

“Is that so?” his father eyed him, his gaze full of appraisal and accusation. If he were standing, he would tower over Jumin, using his rigid posture to impose upon his child. His shoulders refused to sag with age as most men’s would, and while his skin was looser than it once was, his face still held the firm angles of a noble businessman. Dark grey eyes, matching his son’s, squinted below heavy brows. He had little hair left, but did not debase himself to wear something as false and frivolous as a toupee. He didn’t need hair to be a domineering figure, he did that with his personality, with his unwavering confidence that left others deferring to his judgment, even when they might have known better. His father leaned forward, his strong hands wrapped around the glass, amber reflections from the drink playing on the sides of his fingers. He did not speak further, but waited, with the patience of a man who had waited out more difficult adversaries than Jumin.

Jumin, who had been trained since birth to respond no matter what, stood no chance.

“I have no wish for an arranged marriage with her. I would have thought that had been made clear to her by now.” Jumin tried to hold his father’s gaze, but after a smattering of seconds  that felt like an hour his resolve crumbled, and he looked out the window. The city below was already full of lights, their shimmer mingling together to form a soft, glowing aura between the land and the sky. He held his chin up, kept his shoulders back, but inside he felt like he was folding into sections. He was shrinking into a smaller and smaller package, until soon he would become no more than an errant speck of dust on his father’s glass.

“How many years has it been since you’ve so much as looked at a girl, Jumin?” the question was sharp, an edge to the words that peeled back layers of armor Jumin had thought sacred and impenetrable.

He turned, stunned, unsure of the answer his father was looking for. “What?”

“Have you ever dated? I can’t recall ever meeting any companion of yours.”

“I’ve…of course…” he could feel the blush creeping across his cheeks, and he hated himself. “I have been with women, if that’s what you’re asking.” He expected these kinds of questions from Zen, or Yoosung, perhaps even Luciel if the mood struck him. If someone had told Jumin this morning that he would be defending his love life to his father before the night concluded, he would have insisted they have their heads checked. Or fired them.

“Naturally. But that’s not what I’m asking.” His father sighed, hanging his head, as though the entire conversation made him age with each word uttered, and Jumin had the ludicrous fear that he would expire there in his office, disappearing from the world just like Rika had. Perhaps death was always that nonsensical.

He gripped his drink tightly in his hand, feeling the glass strain against the pressure. “Father, I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but I am not interested in marrying Sarah.”

“Why? You’ve already sold your life over to the company, or you would have found someone else by now. Clearly you have no real intentions of marrying for love, so what’s keeping you from marrying for business?” the words were crisp and perfectly enunciated, and each one felt like a knife edge striking a new and brilliant scar across Jumin’s flesh.

“W-what…for business?” he felt stupid as his father looked at him. He felt like a small boy trying to grasp the intricacies of politics, throwing questions to the wind whose answers he couldn’t possibly comprehend. He knew, of course, what his father was talking about, but it created such a tumult within himself that he couldn’t _understand._ So he blinked, and stammered, a blind fool groping for the same light of truth that was stealing his sight.

“If you had taken the time to speak with her, you would know that she is offering to sell us her company at less than value, if you agree to the proposal.” The glass clicked against his fathers teeth as he sipped his drink, and it sounded loud inside the still and silent office. “So, it’s profitable, and she’s pretty. What’s the problem?”

There was a heat building behind his eyes that Jumin couldn’t explain, and he blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. He couldn’t fight the logic, and the realization that he wanted to anyways made his chest feel like it was constricted between concrete columns. Everything burned, everything deprived him of air, and he wanted to race from the room until he could get out of the building and into the frigid evening atmosphere.

His father’s face softened into a warm smile, the sincerity that Jumin clung to so desperately shining through his eyes. “Jumin, Glam assures me that Sarah is a wonderful, smart, talented young woman. I think that she would be good for you.”

He felt like someone had taken everything out of him and left him hollow, empty wind bouncing around between his ears. In that emptiness, in that void, anger swelled despite his best efforts to control it.

“Glam has no business making suggestions regarding my personal life. Sir.” The respectful acknowledgment was an afterthought, a punctuation of courtesy thrown in too late to mean anything. He regretted everything as his father looked at him; his words, his thoughts, his inability to understand why this was all so difficult.

“She does. Because I say she does.” His father set his drink down on the desk, standing to his full height so that Jumin had to look up at him. “I love her, and she has been gracious enough to agree to be my wife. I trust her advice above all others, and I believe that she is only trying to do something good for you.”

_Above all others_ _…?_ The empty wind in his head roared louder, his vision drifting in and out of focus. His father had always had a weakness for women, but it had never affected anything outside of his own personal feelings. This woman had arrived and turned Jumin’s world inside out, twisting his father’s sincerity until it resembled something mangled and marred. Lying at their feet was the bond between them, something Jumin had always imagined was strong, a connection that transcended the normal frivolities of humanity. With every word his father spoke, he landed another kick, another blow to that connection, and each time Jumin wondered how fragile it had actually been. Was this, too, just as fake as everything else in this world?

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my answer is no.” He had to hold his breath to keep control of his voice, putting his hand in his pocket to hide the tremor in his clenched fist.

“This is unacceptable.”

Anger, like a whip, cracked across his mind. “I agree.”

“You’re being unreasonable. You won’t even meet with her.” Thunder rumbled in his father’s words, but Jumin didn’t care. Something inside him felt twisted and wrong, and the seething rage had awoken it, making it dance and writhe behind the waver in his voice.

“I don’t care who you’re sleeping with and I don’t care who you choose to marry, but when it comes to my own relations _I_ will make decisions for myself. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to leave as it is late and I have additional work to see to early in the morning.” Jumin slammed his drink on the desk, turning on his heel and walking as evenly as he could to the door. He put his hand on the knob, turning only an inch to speak over his shoulder. “Goodnight, father. I hope your trip to Europe is _profitable_.”

Silence followed him out, and the heat behind his eyes was overwhelming, threatening to disintegrate him if he lost even another inch of self control.

He made it as far as the elevator door before his phone rang, and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. _Jaehee._ He wanted to ignore it, to turn it off and leave it behind for the evening, but he still had enough sense left to him to know that if she was calling this late then it was not without good reason.

He pressed the button to answer. “Speak.”

“Hr. Han, I apologize for disturbing you so late, but I thought that you would want to know immediately.”

“It’s fine, what is it?” The elevator doors slid open and he walked across the lobby, his steps brisk enough that he was just short of a run.

“Those women, Sarah and Glam? They just showed up here.”

He stopped as he stepped out into the night air, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, letting the chill numb the chaos in his head. “Where?”

Jaehee cleared her throat anxiously. “At my apartment.”

“What?” he opened his eyes, staring at the sky in alarm, asking the stars peering through the cloud cover if they could explain the strangeness of this reality that he now found himself in. “What did they want?”

“They asked about your personal life. They asked if _we_ were a couple.” The disgust in her voice mirrored his own, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Really? She was dumber than she looked.”

Jaehee snickered on the other end of the line. “My thoughts exactly.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Not much. I denied any _involvement_ with you, and advised them that you were not currently seeing anyone else. They inquired if you lived alone, and I mentioned your cat, and then I ended the conversation and sent them away.”

He frowned, unsure why it bothered him that Elizabeth the 3rd had been brought into the conversation. “Thank you, Assistant Kang. I apologize that this fiasco has affected you outside of work.”

“Certainly, sir, it’s no trouble.”

He smirked, though the humor was stale against his tongue. “You don’t mean that.”

“No, I don’t. But it’s all part of the job.”

He started walking down the street, heading in the direction of his penthouse, and he tapped his finger against the side of his phone as he went. He thought about the tone that Jaehee used when she spoke, and the sigh at the end of her words. He wasn’t sure why, but he wondered what Nicolette would say to her in such a situation.

“It isn’t part of your job to handle my personal matters, but I am grateful that you were willing to do so professionally. I will let you go, Assistant Kang. Thank you for your report.” He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket, looking straight ahead as he made his way home. It was cold, and his shoes tapped against the concrete below, every now and again crunching an errant leaf that had not yet been swept away by wind or city workers.

He tried to silence the blaring thoughts in his head, but it was no use. The cold no longer felt like it numbed them, but clarified them instead, bringing them into sharp focus so that they were all he could see. The look in his father’s eyes followed him down the empty streets, hunting him with disappointment and callousness. Worse than the disappointment, worse than the horrible burden that had been placed on his shoulders, Jumin was haunted by the way his father had seemed to look right through him the moment he spoke of Glam. All those years, and he became invisible beneath the sway of a pretty face.

His chest felt like it was growing tighter, and so he stopped walking and sat on a nearby bench. The heat in his skull was overbearing, threatening to make him blind as he blinked and clutched the edge of his seat. He couldn’t breathe. The air was too cold, the burning in his lungs too strong.

He needed to stop thinking. He needed to be numb. He needed to be distracted.

He pulled his phone back out and logged into the RFA chat, scrolling through the messages and trying to focus on every word, to absorb their meaning so that it could replace all of the things inside himself that he didn’t want to understand.

His heart sank. The world was growing darker by the minute as he flipped through the panic, the fear, his veins turning to ice when he saw Unknown and their words to Nicolette. Everything was worse, everything was shaking apart at the seams, spilling out beads of hope and happiness until they shattered against the ground.

He had talked to her earlier that day. He had spoken with her and neglected to ask if she was alright, neglected to notice that anything was amiss. So consumed he had been with his own problems that he had missed one so much larger. His father had broken his trust, but Nicolette was alone, struggling to remain calm while someone threatened her life, and Jumin had ignorantly prattled on about his own troubles. He was an arrogant fool, and he deserved all the pain that he would have to repress before the night was through.

He flipped through the menu and pulled up Nicolette’s contact information, opening their private message thread.

**Jumin: I** **’ve seen what happened. Are you okay?**

**Nicolette: Yes! I** **’m fine now, Seven is watching over me. ^^**

He didn’t think it was possible for his heart to beat faster or his blood to run colder, but it did.

**Jumin: He** **’s there?**

**Nicolette: no, no, there** **’s security cameras.**

**Jumin: Has he been watching you this whole time?!**

**Nicolette: Jumin, settle down, this is Seven we** **’re talking about!**

**Nicolette: of course he wasn** **’t!**

**Nicolette: He asked me if he could turn them on after the hacker showed up again**

**Jumin: Oh.**

There were a great many things that he felt like he wanted to say, but the words and meanings escaped him. He could do nothing but stare at the screen, marveling at the depth of his confusion, at his profound ability to misunderstand his own thoughts and deeds. The night grew colder, and he felt a part of him shrink away from it, shriveling in the dark like a starved rosebud.

**Jumin: Why didn** **’t you say anything?**

**Nicolette: I didn** **’t want to worry anyone.**

**Nicolette: Anyways, let** **’s not talk about it. Seven is working on it, and it won’t do us any good to dwell on it since there’s no action we can take.**

He frowned, deeply and sincerely, wishing that she weren’t correct.

**Jumin: I don** **’t like this. I would like to send protection for you.**

**Jumin: If I knew the address I would be there myself.**

He realized that he meant it, although he couldn’t understand why. What good could he do, other than confirm her safety every minute of every hour with his watchful eye?

**Nicolette: That** **’s a very sweet thought, thank you.**

**Nicolette: But I** **’m sure I’ll be fine.**

**Jumin: Still**

**Jumin: This is very dangerous.**

**Jumin: I dislike thinking that this Unknown cretin could pose a threat to you.**

**Jumin: Or the rest of the RFA.**

 

His last sentence felt like a cover, and umbrella to shield him from the rain falling from his heart. He was drowning in things he tried desperately to avoid, and all he wished was to return to the day before last, where he was safe and dry, where the world was calm and orderly. All he had now was clumsy avoidance, a dance to which he knew the steps but couldn’t perform, his feet bouncing off any form of purchase to send him stumbling to the ground.

**Nicolette: The rest of you** **…**

**Nicolette: Oh god**

**Nicolette: Oh no, of course, they could be targeting all of you too!**

**Nicolette: Do you all have security systems?**

**Nicolette: Are you safe?**

**Jumin: I** **’m fine. However I do not believe the others are as secured.**

**Nicolette: !!!**

**Nicolette: Jumin that scares me so much, I don** **’t want to see any of you hurt**

**Nicolette: god if I hadn** **’t answered those messages they never would have found you guys**

**Nicolette: I** **’m so sorry**

 

Her panic was palpable, like he could feel her heartbeat through the frantic speed of her words. He disliked it, but at the same time it was a relief, because this was something that could be handled. He could do something to ease her mind, while he could do nothing to ease his own.

**Jumin: I will take care of it, then, if it will make you feel better.**

**Nicolette: You will? How?**

**Jumin: If you must know, I can send security details to protect them.**

**Nicolette: What** **…like, bodyguards?**

**Jumin: Yes.**

**Nicolette: OMG, Jumin, that** **’s so**

**Jumin: Don** **’t mention it. It is the least that I can do.**

**Jumin: If I cannot be there to protect you, and I cannot use technology to fight those that threaten you** **…**

**Jumin: Then the least that I can do is ease any burden on your mind.**

**Jumin: It is what you would do for me, I think.**

**Nicolette: Oh, of course I would!**

**Nicolette: Thank you.**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t know if I can really explain how much you guys have come to mean to me**

**Nicolette: I would be heartbroken if this awful person hurt you because of me**

**Nicolette: But between you and Seven, I feel like we will be okay.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sorry, this is a lot for someone you have only known for a few days**

**Nicolette: Just ignore me, I** **’m a sentimental idiot ;;;**

He smirked, watching her words fly across the screen. She rambled when she was nervous. Normally he found such a habit bothersome, but with her it was somehow endearing. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to understand. What was it that made her so different than the rest of the world? Why did she defy rules that applied to all others that he met?

**Jumin: I don** **’t think you’re an idiot.**

**Jumin: although you are very sentimental**

**Nicolette: lolol I probably should have warned you about that beforehand, huh?**

**Jumin: In you I don** **’t find it a flaw**

**Nicolette: haha, thanks?**

**Nicolette: enough about all this. Tell me how the rest of your day went!**

His thumb traced a small circular pattern on the side of his phone as he thought of what else he could say. He still felt like there was more he wanted to share with her, something more that he needed to impart before the conversation changed direction, but he couldn’t think of how to phrase any of it. Words were fickle and useless, confusing and varied, and their true essence eluded him. It was futile to try and express himself in this way, and so he decided that the best course of action would be to do as she asked.

**Jumin: I wish that I could share that it was productive, but unfortunately my father has complicated matters further.**

**Nicolette: oh no, more trouble with the marriage nonsense?**

**Jumin: Indeed.**

**Jumin: He seems to think Sarah is a good match for me.**

**Nicolette: Is that her name?**

**Jumin: Apparently.**

**Nicolette: You seemed to think she was pretty unappealing. I** **’m sorry your father has other ideas.**

**Jumin: As am I.**

**Jumin: I know that it** **’s because of Glam’s influence**

**Jumin: But that is not a great comfort.**

**Nicolette: Not surprising. He should be able to put you first.**

His face crumpled as he looked at the text. An entire evening of brooding, and she was able to sum up the core of the matter in a few simple words. How could one woman understand so much? How could someone whom he had never seen in person be able to summarize his complexities in a single message?

Again, there was more that he wanted to say, but he felt inadequate using words to say them. He was a simpleton in the face of her astute observations, and he knew that any way that he tried to express himself would fall flat, tilting everything in the wrong direction. He didn’t want that. He just wanted to be at peace with her, to know that she saw him and accepted him. Nothing more was required, and there were no words that he knew to explain that. Instead, he ignored his feelings and moved on with the facts, because he had the language to report them, and they were easy and safe.

**Jumin: they have also started harassing Assistant Kang**

**Nicolette: what? That** **’s bold of them.**

**Jumin: she called a moment ago to say they showed up at her apartment**

**Jumin: looking for me**

**Nicolette: ?? Why would they go there?**

**Jumin: Assistant Kang said that they asked if we were involved.**

**Nicolette: lol you and Jaehee?**

**Nicolette: I feel like Jaehee must have coughed up a furball in retaliation.**

**Jumin: lol**

**Jumin: nothing so dramatic, but she did set them straight**

**Jumin: she told them I lived alone with Elizabeth the 3rd**

**Nicolette: ugh it** **’s so gross that they went that far looking for dirt on you**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t like these girls**

**Jumin: We are of the same mind on that point.**

**Nicolette: Hey Jumin, be careful with them**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t think this woman is in it because she’s madly in love with you**

**Nicolette: whatever she** **’s after, she seems to be willing to go to great lengths to get it**

**Jumin: That is a good point. I will try to be guarded against their prying.**

**Nicolette: Good.**

**Nicolette: And as for your father**

**Nicolette: if you don** **’t mind my advise?**

**Jumin: I welcome it.**

**Nicolette: Be firm in standing up for yourself, and give him time.**

**Nicolette: Whatever he has with this woman, I** **’m sure it will lose it’s charm eventually**

**Nicolette: And he** **’ll realize that his relationship with you is more important.**

He couldn’t breathe again, but this time it didn’t hurt as badly. He swallowed, his throat rough and shut tight, the burning in his eyes threatening to spill over onto the cold ground.

**Jumin: thank you.**

**Jumin: I will be careful, and I will think about what you** **’ve said.**

**Jumin: I should let you go, it** **’s getting late and I’m sure you’re tired after the day you’ve had.**

**Nicolette: I am, actually. Will you be okay?**

**Jumin: Thank you for worrying. I will be fine.**

**Nicolette: Okay then, goodnight Mr. Han. :)**

**Nicolette: if you need anything, I** **’m just a phone call away~**

 

He put his phone back in place and leaned back on the bench, staring into the sky. The clouds had dissolved so that the stars hovered above, bright enough that they seemed to be at the tip of his nose. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was her picture, next to the words that were so profound and yet so easy for her. Unbidden, a line of poetry worked its way lose from the threads of his memories, shaking from the cobwebbed recesses where his studies had been tucked away.

_The light of love illuminates far softer than the stars_ _…_

He couldn’t recall the rest of it, but that suited him at the moment. Words were useless, but the stars were kind, and they would not judge him for his confusion. It was the same with her, quietly watching, observing and never finding fault.

He looked at the sky, whiling away the evening, wondering why it was he felt that her bright eyes could see him even when they weren’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, the line of poetry he remembers is from a poem I wrote lol so it doesn't really exist :p


	13. Secret Agent Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven receives a gift.

Her hair was still steaming from the shower as she padded out to the living room, waving at the camera to say good morning to Seven, if he was up this early. The sun was just breaking over the horizon, the pearly pink tint to the sky promising a beautiful day if the weather held. She liked it when it rained, finding the colors and sounds soothing, the smell of the water in the air rejuvenating. Still, it was also good to have sunshine once in a while, and after the day they had all been through yesterday she figured they could use a little brightness.

She sat on the couch, the pile of music sheets next to her billowing out in the opposite direction from her impact. She frowned at them, admonishing them for obeying physics without her permission, and then rolled her eyes because she must look ridiculous. It was strange to be so aware of what she was doing at all hours, knowing that someone could see her. Strange, and yet not uncomfortable. In fact, knowing that he could see her had taken the edge off of her terror and brought her back to something resembling normal. She was still afraid, but she had faith that Seven would take care of it. She trusted him without a second thought, and even when she thought about it she still came to the conclusion to trust him again. She believed that he would never do anything to hurt her, and she believed that he would do anything in his power to keep his promises to her. She had a never ending supply of faith in him, and she hoped that he knew that, and that he knew just how much he had helped her by offering to watch over her.

She unlocked her phone and opened the messenger app, smiling when she saw Seven’s name in the general chatroom window.

**Nicolette: You** **’re up early**

**707: no**

**707: late**

**707: So lAte**

**707: T_T**

**Nicolette: !!!**

**Nicolette: you mean you haven** **’t gone to bed yet?**

**707: nope**

**707: too much work**

**Nicolette: Seven! You** **’ll never be able to concentrate if you don’t take care of yourself**

**707: Can** **’t concentrate anyways**

**707: can** **’t look away**

**_ZEN has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Morning early birds!**

**707: ZEN!**

**707: teach me**

**707: how to focus**

**ZEN: ?? O.o**

**Nicolette: Seven, are you okay?**

**707: Nope.**

**707: Yes.**

**707: Don** **’t worry about it.**

**707: Zen, how do you concentrate in a performance?**

**ZEN: Uh** **…I dunno, I just think about the part**

**707: but what if**

**707: someone is in the audience**

**707: and you can** **’t stop looking at them**

Nicky felt her cheeks turn crimson, but she tried to brush it off. There was no way he meant what she thought he meant.

**ZEN: Um** **…**

**ZEN: Are you actually okay, 707?**

**707: T_T**

**707: just tired.**

**Nicolette: because you didn** **’t sleep. Go to bed.**

He sent a series of emojis that expressed varying levels of distress, and she frowned at her phone.

**707: too much to do**

**707: and you** **’re up now**

**707: so I can** **’t stop watching the TV**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t want you straining yourself over it**

**707: it** **’s the only thing that isn’t a strain**

**707: ignore me**

**707: stop frowning**

**707: here I** **’ll tell a joke**

**707: what do you call a boomerang**

**707: that doesn** **’t come back?**

**ZEN:** **…**

**707: a stick.**

She laughed in spite of herself, and then looked up at the camera to roll her eyes.

**ZEN: That was awful.**

**707: Victory!**

**707: she laughed**

**ZEN: -_- she** **’s insane**

**707: she keeps doing things**

**707: and I keep watching**

**707: because I can** **’t stop**

**707: and when I** **’m not watching**

**707: I** **’m thinking about it**

**707: and everything she does is so cute**

**707: especially like right now**

**707: because she** **’s blushing**

**ZEN:** **…**

**707: I** **’m sorry**

**707: I have to go**

**707: my maid came back**

**707: laterz**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

She looked back up at the camera, trying to keep her expression from looking too forlorn, but his messages had left her worried. He was going to work himself to death on her behalf, and that idea left an ache in her chest more acute than the fear she had experienced the other night.

**ZEN: That was weird.**

**ZEN: And not, like, normal 707 weird, but weird even for him**

**Nicolette: I thought so too. I** **’m worried about him.**

**ZEN: he** **’s just worked himself into a frenzy**

**ZEN: I** **’m sure if he just takes a few minutes to relax he’ll return to normal**

**ZEN: As normal as he ever is, anyways**

She bit her lip, an idea taking form in her head. _Relax, huh?_

 

**Nicolette: I gotta go, I** **’ll talk to you soon**

**ZEN: I just got on!**

**Nicolette: sorry! Go eat breakfast, and call me later~**

 

She put her phone to sleep and grinned to herself, knowing that this would either be the stupidest thing she had ever done or the greatest. Possibly both. She jumped off the couch, running back to her room and donning clothing suitable for going out, then she grabbed her bag off the floor and flung it over her back. She stopped and spared a wave and a wink towards the camera, and she was out the door and down the hallway, all but skipping as she thought about the details of her plan.

***

He absolutely hated how empty the apartment looked without her there.

Even so, he couldn’t keep himself from glancing nervously at the screen three times a minute, waiting for her return as nervous energy built up inside his chest. He frowned, turning from the video feed and back to the project he was tinkering with. He shouldn’t be doing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to write code, and he thought if he could just calm down for a minute then he might be able to be useful to somebody. He tried not to listen to the insistent voice in his head reminding him that he could never be useful enough.

The chassis in front of him was nearly complete. He had to solder the circuits in place, but he’d been able to find the right parts lying around to get the shape he had needed, and that was something. He’d ripped the spoiler off one of his babes to do it, but he didn’t care at the moment. He needed the white metal. He wasn’t sure where he was going to get the blue and pink yet, but he would think of something. He lifted the body and tucked the wiring in place, then plugged in the power switch. There was no real life in it yet, but the motherboard lit up, so he was making progress.

He felt thin. He felt like someone had taken him by the hair and pulled until he was stretched out, as flat as a sheet of paper. Between Vanderwood, the agency job, the hacker, the party, and the screen, he wasn’t sure there were any pieces of himself left. He was going to snap, like a frayed bowstring, and he couldn’t calm himself down enough to try and prevent it from happening.

A flicker of movement caught his attention, and he turned to see Nicky strolling into the apartment, a large bag held in the crook of her arm. She walked back to the bedroom immediately. There was a bounce in her step, but she didn’t turn and wave to the camera like she normally would have. He tilted his head, studying the empty screen once more in confusion.

His phone dinged, and he picked it up to look at it.

**Nicolette: Very important question: does the security camera pick up sound?**

He scratched the side of his head, wondering why she would want to know that.

**707: No, only video. Why?**

She didn’t answer, and she was still back in the bedroom so he couldn’t try to read her face. The scuff of a boot heel on concrete announced Vanderwood’s incessant lurking had drawn close to him again, and so he set his phone down and started flipping through windows on his computer, trying to look busy. He didn’t see an ounce of the information in front of him. He couldn’t think straight. He sighed, picking up his screwdriver and tightening one of the joints on his new project, then stopped and typed a couple of lines of code into his search program, then stopped that and tried to ping the protocols that he had sent out earlier. He didn’t really pay attention to any of it, and he wanted to pull his hair out in frustration.

Finally, he could handle it no more, and he picked up his phone while heaving a defeated sigh.

**707: Are you okay? What are you doing? I can** **’t see you and it’s driving me crazy!!!**

He wanted to weep with relief when she finally messaged back, though her response was not very enlightening.

**Nicolette: Hush, no worries ^^**

**Nicolette: Now, on my signal, please play this file.**

An attachment popped up on his screen, and from the extension at the end of the name it looked like an audio file.

**707: What** **’s this?? O.o**

**707: What signal?**

**Nicolette: Just wait, you** **’ll know. ^^**

**Nicolette: Oh, and watch the screen, pretty please.**

He did as she asked, turning to give the video feed his full attention despite the glare that Vanderwood sent hurtling in his direction. He waited for what felt like an eternity before she finally emerged from the bedroom, and at the sight of her his jaw dropped open, hanging slack as he stared in bewilderment.

She was dressed in a suit that resembled a tuxedo, except the fabric looked as though it was made of solid glitter, and instead of pants there was a small pair of shorts that hugged her thighs. A pair of ridiculous sunglasses rested on the bridge of her nose, tinted a deep black with rims similar to that of his own. Perched atop her head was a set of indecently fuzzy cat ears, and beneath that her hair was tied off in pigtails that bounced with every move she made. She was carrying a stack of what looked like cardboard, and as she strut into the hall she leaned them against the wall. She straightened herself, looking into the camera with more mischief in her gaze than he knew what to do with. She waved, and then picked up one of the cardboard sheets, which turned out to have instructions written on the front.

**Hit it!**

She gave him a thumbs up, then set down the paper. He waited in stunned silence for the span of time that it took him to blink before he started fumbling with his headphones, jamming the connector into his phone and opening the file that she had sent. He hit play, and his ears filled with the sweet sound of her voice.

“This is to remind you that I believe in you, and that you should remember to take breaks to laugh every once in awhile.”

She closed her eyes on the screen in front of him, and he could see her counting down. There was a click on the recording in his ears, and a musical intro started to play. Then her voice returned, full of song, and the Nicky on the screen before him started dancing.

He laughed, openly and fully, deeply and without reservation. The lyrics to the song were familiar to him, but he didn’t quite recognize it until she got to the chorus and was belting out the words “Secret Agent Man” with all her might. She used the hallway of the apartment as a stage, and performed a number of ridiculous dance moves while the music played in his ears. She had managed to sync it up remarkably well, and he could tell that she must have practiced all morning. She pivoted on her heels, did pirouettes on the tip of her toes, kicked so high in the air that he thought she might split in two, used her fingers as though she were wielding a gun and mimed defeating bad guys. At one point she held up another one of the signs, the word “Hacker” written on it in bold, blocky letters with a sharpie, and a face that must have been her approximation of “scary” drawn below. She lifted the sign and ripped it in half during a dramatic swell to the music, then did a cartwheel in the time it took for the paper to flutter to the ground. She finished the piece by leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest and hips cocked. She reached up and pulled the sunglasses down until they rested at the tip of her nose, then gave the camera a theatrical wink.

The music fell silent in his ears, and she held her pose for a few moments longer before skittering to bedroom and then back out to the couch, jumping into the seat and bouncing in place with her phone in hand. He was waiting, and he sent his response before she could.

**707: OMG**

**707: I AM CRYING**

Which was, in fact, not an exaggeration. Tears of mirth were trying to work their way out of his eyes, and it was only because Vanderwood was fuming in the corner that he was managing to hold himself together.

**Nicolette: haha, no, you** **’re not supposed to cry!!!**

**707: TEARS OF JOY**

**Nicolette: <3**

He watched as she giggled on the screen, her feet kicking in the air in unabashed glee for a moment. He couldn’t stop smiling, not even when his cheeks started to hurt from the unfamiliar strain.

**707: What in the world did I do to deserve such a gift?**

**Nicolette: You** **’re you! <3**

**Nicolette: You** **’ve been working so hard, and you seemed really stressed in the chatroom earlier**

**Nicolette: So I thought if I could make you laugh, then you would be able to relax**

**Nicolette: and then maybe working wouldn** **’t be so hard**

**707: I** **…I don’t know what to say.**

Which wasn’t entirely true. He knew that he wanted to say so many things to her, to tell her exactly what she meant to him. He wanted to tell her that this was the greatest thing anyone had ever given him, that she was the funniest, most talented girl in the world, that she was the woman of his dreams…

Vanderwood chuckled, and it sounded low and sinister as it startled him out of his pleasant reverie. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” He turned and glared at her, wishing he could make her disappear, wishing he could go back in time and take another job, wishing that the world didn’t have it out for him. “What? Don’t look at me like that. You can’t have feelings for her. You know how it works.”

“Shut up.” He turned back to look at the screen, where Nicky was now lounging in the sparkling suit, her back flat on the couch and one foot dangling in the air.

“You keep grinning at her like that, it’s only going to get her killed.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying to breathe, but it still felt like Vanderwood had stabbed him in the ribs. He wanted to run from the room, he wanted to curl into a ball and burst into tears. A million shards of hope lay shattered at his feet, and he closed his eyes, trying not to feel it, trying not to notice how his life had a massive hole drilled right in the middle. He had never really known what loneliness was until this week. _Dammit._ This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He wasn’t supposed to have these feelings, ever. He had dedicated himself to a life of solitude long ago, and it was the sacrifice that he had gladly made…

There wasn’t supposed to be someone out there that could make him come close to regretting that.

He stared at the screen with more longing in his chest than any one person should endure, wishing he could abandon everything and go to her. She seemed so close when they were talking, it was so easy to forget his place, forget who he was and what kind of things he did. They were galaxies apart.

“Get back to work, lover boy.” Vanderwood ruffled his hair, her laughter full of scorn as she walked into the kitchen.

His phone felt like a bomb in his hands, ready to detonate at any moment, but still he picked it up and sent one last message.

**707: That meant everything to me. I promise I** **’ll work harder to deserve it~**

**707: gotta go, but I** **’ll ttyl**

**Nicolette: <3 Have fun~**

What he didn’t say, what he could never say, what filled him with regrets and pain, it was that which he kept locked deep inside. It ran in tandem with his thoughts, took up as much space as the fragmented horrors in his memories. It was louder than drums in his mind, louder than bells, shaking him with each beating thrum until he would come apart at the seams. It was forbidden, and meaningless because it shouldn’t be allowed to exist. It was what consumed him, night and day, until there was nothing left but it alone, drowning him in need. What he didn’t say was everything.

What he didn’t say was “I’m in love with you.”


	14. A Silent Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which no one is given any answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the point in the story where some of you may begin to realize that I'm an awful, no good, terrible, very bad person. 
> 
> How about some actual plot before bedtime? Sounds nice, yes? 
> 
> Let me know how warm and fuzzy it makes you feel. >:)

Zen’s face dominated her screen for a second as he sent her a selfie, his hair wet from a shower and a towel wrapped around his shoulders. He was standing in his bathroom, surrounded by steam, and the smirk on his face would probably have killed Jaehee. Nicky made a mental note to send it to her later. 

**ZEN: How about that?**

**ZEN: Is it so sexy that you're rendered speechless?**

**ZEN: Can** **’t you just picture the water dripping down my taught muscles?**

**Nicolette: Nope.**

**Nicolette: Although nice steam, it makes you look like your in another world**

**ZEN: A world where we are fated to be together?**

**Nicolette: not even if you** **’re the only man in that world. I’d defect to women.**

**ZEN:** **…**

**ZEN: I wouldn** **’t object, actually.**

**Nicolette: You** **’re so gross lol shut up and tell me how your meeting went this morning**

**ZEN: *sigh* they want me to do some modeling**

**Nicolette: oh poor baby**

**Nicolette: it must be tragic being offered jobs where you get to stand around and be attractive all day**

**ZEN: Hey! I** **’ll have you know looking this good takes a lot of work**

Nicky laughed, tossing her hair behind her head. She was laying upside down on the couch again, hoping that it would brighten Seven’s day as he continued to work. She had sent him a few messages here and there, but his replies in return were sparse. He hadn’t been around much since her show this morning, but he also didn’t seem to be falling to pieces when he did check in, so she was satisfied that it had done the trick. It made her feel good to know that she could still make him smile, even if she was the cause of at least part of his current burden.

She smiled to herself, glancing out the window to see the sun as it started to reach the end of its apex, preparing for its descent into what was turning out to be a lazy afternoon. She had already answered all of the correspondence with the guests for the party, and she had managed to wrangle an impressive caterer by promising the woman a private audience with Zen. As it turned out, lonely bakers really seemed to have a thing for pretty boys who liked to whine about their looks.

**Nicolette: uh-huh**

**ZEN: It is! Don** **’t give me that sass**

**ZEN: I work out three times a day, stress about the food I eat, feel guilty every time I smoke** **…**

**Nicolette: Yeah, about that**

**Nicolette: you know you** **’re quitting, right?**

He sent an emoji of himself, eyebrow raised in a sardonic question.

**ZEN: Is that so?**

**Nicolette: yup, I decided.**

**ZEN: Hm. I don** **’t think I would let anyone make that kind of decision for me**

**ZEN: Unless she were my girlfriend~~**

**Nicolette: k I** **’ll tell Jaehee to yell at you**

**ZEN: Are you still on about that? -_-**

**ZEN: She** **’s just a fan**

**Nicolette: riiiiight**

**ZEN: Besides, she doesn** **’t have time to date**

**ZEN: Neither of us do**

**Nicolette: I dunno**

**Nicolette: I think if they care enough people tend to make time**

**Nicolette: so you should make time**

**ZEN: Hm.**

**Nicolette: you know you wanna~~~**

**ZEN: Alright, I promise I** **’ll ask her out**

Nicky sat up, her breath caught in her throat, a squeal pealing from her lips and ringing through the apartment.

**ZEN: as soon as you ask out Seven >:)**

She collapsed back into her original position, pouting. She scowled as she did it, and took a selfie to send to him, so that he could see how displeased she was with his trick. A strand of hair drifted down into her face, and she puffed up her cheeks and blew it to the side. She spared a glance for the camera, wondering if he was watching. He must think she was so dramatic, flouncing about on the couch like a beleaguered cat.

**ZEN: aw, you** **’re adorable when you pout**

**ZEN: no wonder Seven** **’s been losing his mind**

**Nicolette: you** **’re so mean**

**Nicolette: and unfair**

**Nicolette: even *if* I wanted to - and I admit to NOTHING \- but even if I wanted to ask him out**

**Nicolette: I** **’m trapped in an apartment**

**Nicolette: that belonged to your dead friend**

**Nicolette: that is being targeted by a psychopath**

**Nicolette: who apparently wants to take me to paradise**

**Nicolette: and I** **’m in the middle of planning a party**

**Nicolette: that takes place in less than a week.**

**Nicolette: Should I go on?**

**ZEN: something something if you care enough you would make time**

**Nicolette: >:(**

**ZEN: I mean, I** **’m not saying you don’t have your own very unique set of circumstances**

**ZEN: But you made time to do a song and dance routine for him**

**ZEN: That** **’s practically a date already!**

**Nicolette: Good, then that** **’s date one, now ask out Jaehee**

**ZEN: you** **’re impossible**

**Nicolette: you love it**

**ZEN: I do, lets forget about all of them and run away together**

**ZEN: our children would be gorgeous**

**Nicolette: Ewwwwwwww**

She laughed again as he sent an offended emoji, rolling over on her stomach so that the blood would rush out of her head and back into some of the limbs it was supposed to be in. She was about to tease him further when a strange beeping sound echoed through the apartment around her.

Half a second later a woman’s placid voice came over a loudspeaker that Nicky hadn’t known was there. “Emergency protocol activated.”

“Wha -”

“Emergency protocol de-activated.”

She sat up, looking around the ceiling as though the source of the voice might suddenly appear, popping out of the solid wall like a spectral horror. Everything was quiet. No further alarms sounded, no additional voices declared anything else strange. She waited a few heartbeats, but she didn’t receive any indication that it was anything worth getting worked up about. She frowned, picking her phone back up.

**Nicolette: Hey Zen, what** **’s the “emergency protocol”?**

**ZEN: eh????**

**Nicolette: A voice in the apartment just said something about it**

**ZEN: Is Seven doing something with it?**

**Nicolette: Dunno, let me check. Brb.**

She swiped out of her message thread with Zen and switched over to the one with Seven, her thumbs flying over the letters.

**Nicolette: Hey, are you doing something with the security stuff here?**

There was a short pause before she heard back from him.

**707: No, everything looks fine on the screen. What** **’s up?**

**Nicolette: nothing, just a voice said something about the** **“emergency protocol” so I thought you might be doing something**

She shrugged, feeling better that Seven had told her everything looked fine. She was about to move back into her chat with Zen and let Seven get back to work, but messages popped up onto her screen before she could do so.

**707: Nicky**

**707: I need you to be really specific.**

**707: What did the voice say?**

**Nicolette: What** **’s wrong?**

Her heart skipped around in her chest, her blood still rushing from having been upside down in her skull for too long.

**707: Nicky, now. Tell me.**

She took a deep breath, worried that she had remembered it wrong, worried that it meant something more than just a glitch in the system. That couldn’t be so bad, though, could it? What was the worst that could happen when a security system glitched?

**Nicolette: I think it said something about it being activated, but then a second later it came back and said that it was de-activated again.**

Seven didn’t answer right away, and she felt like her nerves were all lighting up at once, trembling in alarm, warning her of an oncoming storm. She swiped back over to her chat with Zen.

**Nicolette: I think something** **’s wrong**

**Nicolette: I told him what the thing said and now he** **’s not answering**

**ZEN: !!!**

**ZEN: Are you okay?**

**Nicolette: Yes? Nothing seems different than it did a minute ago** **…**

**Nicolette: he seems upset about it.**

**ZEN: Oh, hang on, Jaehee just asked me to get in the group chat**

Nicky bit her lower lip, hesitating for only a second before she followed Zen.

In retrospect, she would always wish that she had gotten there sooner, or done more to diffuse the situation, but in the moment all she could think about was what happened, second by second, minute by minute, and how her fear and faith had warred for control of her heart.

***

His fingers were useless, shaking so badly that he could barely type, could barely move at all. His terror was so complete, so astoundingly profound, that it was difficult to remember the codes that he needed.

Numbers and letters whirred across his screen, faster than he should have been able to read, but in his frantic desperation he was able to see, he was able to look through the algorithms and logs to know what it was that he was seeing.

Someone had been all over the system, touching just about every aspect of the protocols set up on the apartment, and the bastard had been quiet enough about it that Seven hadn’t noticed. He was doing too many things at once, twine pulled taught as the only lifeline for those dangling at the edge of a cliff, and he was messing up because of it. Damn. The hacker was good. Almost as good as Seven was.

Almost.

His eyes flitted over the pattern that he could see now, neat, tidy, and undeniable in its presence. He could pick out all the clues, and he was an idiot for having missed them before. It was like looking into a mirror of his own code, the same but lit wrong, similar but shifted in the reverse. They had been into every part of the system, filthy fingers all over Seven’s code, violating the sanctity of the one place that he wanted to protect. Nothing had been left unmolested, and all of it had been compromised. Seven’s breath died in his throat when he saw the objective, when he gleaned the purpose of all the probing and testing that the hacker had done. 

It looked like the son of a bitch was trying to activate the failsafe remotely.

He punched in a few commands that should distract the mechanism that would be needed to pull the trigger, stalling for time, and then he pushed out of his chair and stood up…only to run directly into Vanderwood, her chest like a brick wall as Seven bounced off of it and back into his chair.

“Going somewhere?”

“Emergency. I have to get to the apartment, I’ll explain when I get back.” He went to stand up, but Vanderwood back handed him across the face, sending his seat cracking into the desk behind him. The white chassis that he had been working on twirled perilously close to the edge, and he shot out his hand to steady it.

“No. My goddamned life is on the line here, agent 707. Sit down and work.”

He ran his hand through his hair, curling his fingers in a fist as he tried to fight back the desperate tears that wanted to pour out of him. He looked up at Vanderwood, her fingers twitching, her hand poised above the place where he knew she kept her gun: left breast of her jacket, third pocket in. He wasn’t going to convince her, not with any reason or logic that he knew, and if he pressed her patience any further he was going to have solid chrome aimed at his temple until he did what she said.

He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again he filled the words with as much venom as he could muster. “Fine. I’ll work. Go do something useful and get me some more coffee.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he angled his chair back towards the computer, positioning his hands back above the keyboard. It felt like forever, but finally she moved, heading into the kitchen to do as he had asked.

He immediately pulled up the RFA chatroom.

**707: Listen**

**Yoosung: ??**

**707: there** **’s something wrong with the security system at the apartment**

**707: I** **’m trying to fix it but I don’t have enough time**

**Jaehee: Is everything okay?**

**707: No**

**707: Nicky is in danger**

**707: You need to get in touch with V immediately**

**707: he** **’ll know what to do**

**_ZEN has entered the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: What** **’s happening?**

**ZEN: I** **’m here, Seven what’s going on?**

**ZEN: does this have something to do with the emergency protocol?**

**Jaehee: the what?**

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: V will explain everything**

**Jumin: What danger? Is it the hacker?**

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: I have to go**

**707: Get ahold of V**

**_707 has left the chatroom_ ** **_._ **

He minimized the window just as Vanderwood walked back into the room, setting his coffee on the desk next to him. He cracked his neck, the muscles and tendons straining as the structure beneath popped and snapped. He placed his hand on the keyboard again and pulled up all the windows that he could manage, trying to balance monitoring the security system with completing the job for the agency.

As he worked, his lips moved in the shape of a silent prayer, uttered as a last resort..

_I have always tried to make my own miracles. I have always tried to believe that I could change things if I worked hard enough. But this time_ _…I think I need help. I can’t do it alone. Please, let V answer them, let him know what to do. Let him know how to help me._

_Please let it be okay._

***

Jumin read over the messages twice before he left the chatroom, tapping his way through the menus on his phone to bring up V’s number. His pressed call, and then listened to the sound of the ring on the other end of the line. With each iteration his grip on his phone grew tighter. The sound cycled through, repetitive, mechanical, and yet he felt that it was mocking him, laughing at his inadequacies.

_“Hello, I’m unable to answer your call. Please leave a message and I will try to get back to you as soon as possible.”_

“Shit.” Jumin disconnected the call and tried again, tapping his foot in an attempt to expel some of the furious energy pent up inside his chest. The air in the room felt heavy with ill intent, and he wanted to open a window, to throw his chair through the glass so that he could feel the breeze.

_“Hello, I’m unable -”_

“Dammit V.” He disconnected and pulled up his messages, tapping the small square to create a new thread.

**Jumin: V, it** **’s important, I need you to answer.**

He switched out of the messages and back to the phone, jamming his finger into the call button so hard that his fingertip turned white.

It rang, and the voicemail picked it up again. He waited through the message, his breath coming in short bursts of heat and frenzy, until he heard the beep at the end.

“What is the emergency protocol?! Why would the security system put Nicolette in danger?!” Jumin ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Call me back.” It wasn’t a request, it afforded no courteous room for polite refusal. He had never issued a command to V before, but in this moment he felt as though he were justified. In this moment he felt as though he had a right to demand his friend’s attention with all the urgency that the situation called for.

He disconnected and sat on the couch in his office, his eyes looking at the deep blue of the sky outside without seeing it. His heart felt like it had broken, ceased its function as it beat so hard it was left no recourse but to split into pieces, nothing more than lumps of malformed flesh drifting in his chest cavity.

He pulled up the RFA chatroom again.

****

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: V isn** **’t answering.**

**Yoosung: T_T not for me either**

**ZEN: same, what about you Jaehee?**

**Jaehee: Nothing.**

**Nicolette: Seven isn** **’t answering either.**

**ZEN: I tried him as well, but if Nicky isn** **’t getting anything out of him**

**ZEN: then the rest of us won** **’t either**

Jumin felt the serene calm that he maintained as his armor start to slip away, and in its place came oceans of rage, crashing down on him with force and fury. They were all on high alert, but all they had was questions. Questions and the vague warning that Nicolette could be in danger. What was he supposed to do with that? How was he supposed to help if he wasn’t able to understand what was even happening? He wanted reports, printed on crisp paper, documents written out in a legible hand, providing him with the information that he needed. In proposals it was always clear what action he should take, obvious what made sense from a financial or political standpoint. In this there were no indicators, no facts that he could peruse. He was blind, mewling in the dark like a stunted kitten, begging for V to bring him scraps on which to survive.

**Jumin: This is ridiculous.**

**Jumin: It** **’s unacceptable that none of us can go to the apartment.**

**Jumin: If she** **’s in danger we need answers!**

**Yoosung: Why isn** **’t V answering?**

**Yoosung: Why won** **’t he explain anything!!**

**ZEN: I just tried again, still nothing.**

**Jumin: Why is it the only two people who know what** **’s going on have disappeared?**

**Jaehee: do you think it** **’s the hacker?**

**Jumin: I think it** **’s negligence. I think if there’s danger we should have been informed. I think that V and Seven have been playing games with Nicolette’s life and I’m sick of it.**

**Nicolette: Jumin** **…**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sure it’s not like that.**

**Yoosung: I think Jumin** **’s right**

**Yoosung: Seven said you were in danger, and it isn** **’t fair that we can’t do anything about it!**

**ZEN: It** **’s a bad time to be MIA**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t think he is**

**Jaehee: he isn** **’t answering.**

**Nicolette: Stop it. Whatever is happening, I know Seven is working hard to fix it.**

**Nicolette: And I** **’m sure V will be in contact with everyone soon.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m fine right now**

**Nicolette: there** **’s no immediate danger**

**Nicolette: so trust in Seven**

He glared at her words, the tumult in his head growing louder and louder until he knew that his head would split apart if he didn’t do something. He drove his fist into the back of the couch, the thick leather creaking while the pictures on the wall trembled in their places.

**Jumin: No.**

**Jumin: I won** **’t trust blindly when it comes to your life.**

**Jumin: I** **’m leaving, I’m going to call Seven again and get straight answers.**

**Nicolette: Jumin, wai** **t!**

He saw her message but he closed the chatroom anyhow. He didn’t want to watch her apologize for the people putting her in danger, for the men who thought themselves beyond reproach because they held secrets that they deemed important without any contribution from the rest of them. This could have all been fixed if there weren’t so many untold truths hanging between everyone, so mired in doubts and half spoken facts that they couldn’t tell who among them was even real. Why hadn’t V trusted him? Why was there something between him and Seven that the rest of them couldn’t be a part of?

He slammed the call button next to Seven’s picture, his anger feeding in on itself until it felt like a senseless loop that would never end. As he listened to it ring, he wondered if this was what madness felt like before the blissful fall into oblivion.


	15. I Believe in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky does her best and Seven is having regrets.

With all her might, she tried not to tremble.

She sat on the couch, staring at the phone in her hands without really seeing it. Once more she was the bird in the cage, and now her wings had been clipped, her pretty feathers stripped until she was naked and shivering on the floor. She could sing, but no one was listening. Every note, every call, every clear intentioned cry; all of it fell on deaf ears, ears blocked by fear and anxiety, blocked by things in their pasts that she couldn’t possibly understand.

Her eyes darted to the camera in the corner, a connection with Seven that she clung to, trying to convince herself that it was enough to keep them both sane. She didn’t want to tremble because she didn’t want him to see it. She wanted to get up and pace, but he would see that too, and she didn’t want it to weigh on him the way it weighed on her. She wanted to burst into tears, but that, too, would make his task harder. So she sat perfectly still, and stared at her phone, out of options and out of the strength that it took to face the crisis laid before her.

She was in danger. That’s what he had said. Something about that voice had terrified Seven, and while she didn’t understand it, knowing that it had come from the apartment made her want to get up and run out the door. She had very nearly done that, too, before the reality of her situation had sunk in, the jaws of the feral wolf clamping over her neck so that she couldn’t act at all.

Unknown was still out there. They knew where she was, and for all any of them knew the mysterious harasser could be laying in wait for her, biding their time until she tried to leave. Even her shopping trip that morning to get the supplies for the dance had been a risk, but she had felt safer because Seven had been watching over her. Now, she felt like walking out the door was a death sentence. Within the apartment there was a chance that Seven could keep her safe, but outside of that realm anything could happen. She was targeted by strange forces, backed into a corner without a weapon to protect herself. All she had were words, pleas to the others to remain calm and believe, but even those were worthless.

Now Jumin was furious, Seven was in a panic, V seemed to be completely missing in action, and she was left trying to hold them all together. What could she do? What more could she say?

She was terrified, but she wanted to believe. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, because she needed it to be. She needed all of them to get out of this on the other side, happy, healthy, and whole. She wanted to give the world to them, to all of them. She wanted to bring down the stars and spread them across their hearts. They had restored her. She was broken and bleeding through half healed scars, and they had taken her in with hardly a second thought, treating her as though she were a complete person, as though pieces hadn’t been ripped from her by the people she had trusted. As though she didn’t have skeletons in her closet with bones sharpened to a point, dripping with poison and bile. They had given her the world back, a world that had everything in it again, the full range of hope and possibility, and the numb nightmare that she had walked in for the past six months had finally seemed to end.

For six months she had been in darkness, and for three weeks she had been alone within it. Then the RFA appeared, and she had remembered what it was like to live.

Nicky swallowed her fear, steeling her nerves against everything, against fear and the past and the sharp, dripping bones. She stood up, walking with determination to the cardboard signs still leaning against the hall. She picked one off the floor and flipped it over to the blank side, snatching the sharpie off of the counter. She wrote her message, in the biggest font that she could fit on the paper, and then slammed the cap back on the marker with a firm twist. Satisfied, she leaned it up on the couch so that it was facing the camera, and then she sat down next to it and pulled up the RFA email account. If she couldn’t do what she wanted to, if she couldn’t cry or scream or give in to the fear, then she might as well throw herself into her work, and do her best to make the best party this group had ever seen.

The cardboard stood silent sentinel on the couch next to her, and she took hope knowing that at some point he would see it, and then again whenever he checked on her, every time his eyes grazed the screen it would be there declaring the truth. It was true for as long as she was sitting there next to it, and he would know it every single time. She wished that she could tell it to him in person, that she could take his hand so that he would know how much she meant it, but since that wasn’t possible she would just have to make the best of the situation at hand.

Nicky went to work, and the sign proclaimed her faith to the only one she cared to ever see it.

_“I’m fine. I’m safe. I believe in you.”_

***

She had written three things on a piece of cardboard, and with them she had saved him and killed him. He died when he saw them, heart snatched into the grip of something great and terrible, crushing the air out of him as he struggled to breathe. Then he was revived only to die all over again, each revolution another fresh round of pain and joy. He couldn’t understand why she still cared enough to do such a thing, how she could sit there and hold everything together when all he could give her were non-answers and meaningless reassurances. Why was she like that? Why did she shine so brightly, even now?

Why did he have to be blinded by her light?

The phone rang for the third time within the last three minutes, and Seven finally couldn’t handle it any longer and flipped it from its face down position on the desk. _Jumin._ Not V, but Jumin. Again.

He answered. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” the man on the line was furious, and Seven couldn’t bring himself to hold it against him. He _should_ be furious. They should all be furious, because they never should have let her stay in that apartment, they never should have dragged her into their lives. He never should have let her smile trick him into thinking that she would ever be happy anywhere near them.

“Did you talk to V?”

“V isn’t answering! What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you unless V gives the okay.” His voice sounded dead, even to himself. He looked at the screen again, seeing her sign, knowing that he didn’t deserve it, not even a little bit.

There was a thump on the other end of the line, and Seven tried not to think about how mad Jumin must be if he was hitting things in frustration. “Dammit Seven, don’t give me that. I need answers! You said she was in danger, I need to know what I should do!” Panic, raw and real, threaded through the calm demeanor that Jumin had let fall to the wayside. It shook Seven more than he wanted to admit. And it was all his fault.

“My hands are tied.” He switched the phone to his other ear, using his shoulder to hold it in place so that he could start typing again. His eyes flicked to the screen, then back to his code, then back to the screen. He typed the wrong thing into the wrong window, and he nearly hit execute without noticing his mistake. Sloppy. Careless.

“Bullshit. This is Nicolette’s life we’re talking about here, and I’m sick of you playing secret agent with it. If you can’t be honest about what’s going on then you don’t deserve the right to call yourself her protector, and certainly not her friend.”

He could feel his heart harden, the pieces of it grinding in his chest. He didn’t want to believe Jumin’s words, but he agreed with them, and so there was nothing he could do but shut down. Full system failure, collecting the pain and letting it wash over him, deadening the edges so that he could still function. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll keep her safe.”

“That’s not good enough. Seven, please, stop this.” The waver in Jumin’s voice hurt more than it should have. Everything hurt more than it should have.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll keep her safe.”

“No. I don’t accept that.” Another thump, this time the tinkle of glass immediately after.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll keep her safe.” It was a litany, a prayer that held him together when nothing should have. It was the best that he could do, and he hated every single word of it, every bit of vague bullshit that he had to spout. Where was V? Why wasn’t be answering? Why were there so many things between everyone, and how was it that one person had shown up and pointed a floodlight at all of them? Their lives had been torn apart long ago, when Rika had disappeared and left a million questions that hung unanswered, grief keeping them from asking what was important, what was necessary. So much had been taken for granted, and now all of it was rising from the place where they had locked it, demanding that they pay penance for the sins of complacency.

“You’re not even listening.” Jumin’s fury had hardened, growing cold and thick, ice around his words and his heart. “You don’t deserve to keep her safe.”

The phone clicked, and Jumin was gone. Seven looked at the screen, looking at the sign again, looking at the beautiful ray of sunshine sitting next to it. She was perfect. Her feet were curled underneath her, her eyes darting back and forth across the screen as she did who knew what on her phone. There was a strand of hair that hung just to the left of her gaze, curling delicately like silken ribbon.

Then she glanced up, and their eyes locked. It was lightning, striking him along the spine, shaking him like crashing thunder and furious rain. Her gaze was full of light, full of things that whispered promises to him, speaking of hope and bliss, speaking of everything that he thought he didn’t need in his life. He could picture an entire world that he could never have, a million little moments stacking together to become a future. Lazy mornings in bed beneath the covers, afternoons with her practicing music while he tinkered with his work, evenings laying beneath the open sky, counting the stars with their fingers intertwined. There was so much laughter in his vision, so much humor and joy so that nothing dark could ever touch them, an impenetrable barrier created by their connection.

He looked at the unfinished chassis on his desk. He looked at the windows full of code, full of tools that he used to do terrible things for terrible people. He looked at his house, a bunker to keep out hunters that would pursue him, would follow him to the ends of the earth to take his life for what he knew. He looked at Vanderwood, lounging on the couch with a view of him and the screen, a gun in her pocket and a disregard for life that was easy for her, so long as she benefited from its loss. He looked at his life, and he knew that his vision was nothing more than a fever dream.

Seven went back to work, but in his mind, everything was different. His life, his past, the steps that he had to take to save the people he loved. All of that changed, every bit of his history, so that in his dreams he could still be with her.

It was the only place he could.


	16. 707 had Died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which plot happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up kids, things are about to get a bit hectic from here on out. 
> 
> Also, thank you all of you for the wonderful comments, they are motivating me to write faster than ever!!! 
> 
> For those interested, this is the dawn of the 8th day.

6: 47 AM.

The numbers on the clock blurred together, Seven’s vision swimming. His head dipped low for a second, but he jolted himself awake again, looking back over at the screen, her sign on the couch proclaiming her safety.

He felt like he was losing his mind.

Scratch that, he felt like he had _lost_ his mind. Somewhere along the line the world had become a cycle of work that never ended, numbers that never added up, code that never completed, algorithms that never made any sense. All through it, she remained on the screen, a bastion of hope that he could never reach, a vivid dream that he could not wake from and could never really have.

She had slept on the couch that night, sending him a text to tell him that it was so he wouldn’t worry about her, so that he could see her whenever he needed to. His entire body ached with how much she cared about his wellbeing while she was the one being threatened. Her life hung in the balance, and still she thought of him.

It wasn’t fair.

Vanderwood was prowling around his home, a predator always behind him, always breathing in his air and tainting it with her awful, merciless obsession. If he so much as looked away from his work she hit him across his bruised and throbbing skull, knocking him back into focus as he seethed with so many emotions that he couldn’t count them all anymore. If he pulled up anything on the screen besides the job for the agency she was there, appearing like a ghoul in the fog, violence and unforgiving threats her whip, cracking over his back to urge him onward.

Still, he had been finding ways.

He picked up his coffee mug, draining it even though it was stone cold, even though his muscles twitched with the amount of caffeine already stampeding through his veins.

“More.” It was an order, the same plaintive command that he had given a dozen times since last night. She sighed, taking the mug and walking to his kitchen with leisure riddled steps. He watched her go out of the corner of his eye.

As soon as she turned the corner he pulled up the data from the security system. He scrolled to the next sector, examining the code for the signs he needed, trying to figure out what had been done so he could undo it, trying to figure out where the trail led so that he could stop Unknown’s plans once and for all. He was typing things faster than he was thinking, allowing intuition to guide him because he didn’t have the strength to think anymore. Everything was spinning out of control, and he could only pray that his fingers knew the right keys, that they would be guided to where they needed to go, that _he_ would be guided to the information he needed.

Then he saw it.

All the clues, all the changes, all the facts blurred together and he finally understood the horrible, world sundering truth.

Someone hadn’t been trying to activate the failsafe…

They were trying to deactivate it. Permanently.

Everything froze as he looked at the results, looked at the doom looming on the horizon. The problem, the real and pervading issue that had to be addressed, was that the hacker hadn’t done a good enough job. The failsafe was still active…and would still be active whenever Unknown showed up at the apartment, thinking that they were in the clear. It would only take a few minutes after they intruded before the bomb would be detonated, wiping out the classified information along with Nicky and her brilliant light.

Vanderwood was still in the other room, so he only had a few precious seconds to get out. He stood, snatching his bag from beneath the desk and sweeping as much equipment as he could into it. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and a set of keys from the table, slinging everything else over his shoulder and racing towards the door.

He had his hand on the knob when he paused, paralyzed with fear, with doubt, with lingering regrets that would not leave him. He needed to go, he knew that, he knew he didn’t have time to get anything else, that it was stupid to even think about it…

“Fuck.” He pivoted, running back to the desk and grabbing the white chassis and the other unassembled pieces, stuffing them into the bag with the rest of his things. He reached over and grabbed the floppy disk, tossing that in his pocket, and then he turned to go back to the door.

Too late.

“Going somewhere?” her eyebrow rose skyward while her gaze flashed with anger.

He tightened his grip on the bag, his knuckles turning white. “Vanderwood, don’t.”

She shifted her feet, broadening her stance just a fraction of an inch. “Not gonna happen.”

“Please…” he would get on his knees if he thought it would help. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be doing any of this, didn’t want this life that had been handed to him, didn’t want the past or the present, didn’t want what this would bring to his future. “Just…let it go. Let me go.”

She took a step towards him, her hand moving to the edge of her jacket. “Finish. The. Work.”

He took one short breath, and then did the only thing he could think of.

Moving with all the speed the overdose of caffeine had afforded him, he grabbed another set of keys from the desk as her fingers plunged into the pocket of her suit. She had the pistol pulled halfway out when he swung his arm forward and let go of the keys, sending them hurtling through the air as hard as he could. They smashed into the side of her head, a strange thud echoing through the room as metal met flesh. She stumbled, blinking as her gaze dipped in and out of focus, the hand with the gun going slack as she tried to steady herself.

He stepped forward, pulling his bag from his shoulder and throwing himself into a spiral, fingers tight around the strap so he wouldn’t lose his grip. The bag soared down, then upward, crashing against her temple and sending her flying off of her feet. She tumbled to the ground, rolling until she impacted with the edge of the couch, and then lay unmoving, eerily still in a crumpled heap like a misshapen statue. He watched as a trickle of blood dribbled down the side of her head, smearing across the concrete floor.

He rushed to the door while he still had the chance, before she could regain consciousness. He wouldn’t have a lot of time once she did.

That was it, then. That was the last decision in a string of bad ones that would sever his hopes from his future forever. He was forfeit. The agency would see to it that he didn’t live to spill their secrets, and they would send their hounds and assassins until he was dead on the ground, lips and fingers stilled into silence.

He could never be with her. He could never be with the RFA, he would never get to go to the party. He would have to disappear from everything he loved, fading into the quiet night to cower for as long as he could, until he ran out of luck and minutes and doom finally caught up with him. He never should have loved her. He never should have loved any of them. He should have been cold and distant, he should have never made them laugh or smile. All those times where he thought he was doing good, where he thought he could at least make them happy for the moment, he had only been making it worse. Worse for him when he had to let go, worse for them when they had to wonder where he’d gone. He had done so much damage by caring about her, and it was going to ruin him to walk away.

But he could still save her, and that was all that mattered.

He hardened his heart, resolved to do whatever it would take, swallowing his own pain and bitter despair. 707 had died the minute he had clocked his partner across the forehead, but Nicky would live.

He didn’t have a lot of time.

***

No one was on. They all kept hopping in and out of the chat like moths bouncing against a bulb, searching for the light that couldn’t be reached. No one had heard from V, they had barely heard from Seven, and Nicky was aggressively insisting that she was okay. She might be, because Zen believed that she really did have that much faith in Seven, but he wasn’t so sure if she _should_ feel that way.

Damn, when did everything get so heavy?

****

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

****

Zen sat upright on his couch, planting both feet on the floor, a charge of thrilled nervousness running down his spine.

**707: I** **’m going to the apartment**

**707: if anything happens keep trying to get V**

**707: he** **’ll know what to do**

**ZEN: SEVEN! What** **’s going on?**

**707: no time**

**707: could already be too late**

**ZEN: Is Nicky okay? Can I help?**

**707: I have to save her**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

****

“Shit.” Zen swiped out of the chatroom with shaking hands, pulling up Nicky’s contact in his phone as quickly as he could.

It only rang twice before she picked up, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Hey lover boy.”

“Are you okay?” the anxious whine in his voice bothered him, so he cleared his throat.

“Um, yes?” she sounded normal, the same sarcastic firecracker that he had come to love. “I’m just making some eggs. Are _you_ okay?”

He debated whether he should say anything, knowing that it would only disrupt her day, knowing that it would only add stress to the situation. She was holding up so well, and things just kept getting worse…but in the end he couldn’t keep it from her, because if their places were switched he knew that she would be honest with him. “Something’s wrong with Seven, he just scared the shit out of me in the chat.”

“Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker.” He heard a rustle of air and then static on the line before her voice returned. “Okay, let’s see…” she hummed softly, a cheery tune, but he could still hear the waver beneath it, and he knew that she was worried.

Then he heard her sharp intake of breath, and he wished that he could reset time and do something to change the way things were happening.

“What’s going on?” her words barely held air, and he wanted to hug her and promise that everything would be okay, even if he had no idea if it would.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about it.”

“He’s coming _here?_ _”_

“Looks like it. Damn, him and V have too many secrets. It’s driving me crazy not knowing what’s going on!” Dead silence met him from the other end of the line, and his heart sank to even lower depths than it already had. “Nicky? Are you there?”

“Zen…” she sounded so small, so pained. “I’m scared.”

He closed his eyes, her tiny voice making him picture her shrinking, withering away until she disappeared, until she had been ground to dust beneath the strain that they were putting on her. It was too much, too much for anyone, and she kept trying to have faith in the face of insurmountable odds against her. He wanted to pick her up and carry her a way, to take her to a world where there wasn’t a hacker chasing her. A world where they had met in a coffee shop, becoming fast friends over their love of music, like perfectly normal people. A world where he suggested her as a party planner because she was outgoing and qualified, and not because she had been locked in Rika’s apartment. A world where she could develop a relationship with Seven without the threats and the secrets coming between them, where they could make each other happy the way that they deserved. He wanted to swoop in and be her big brother, and save her from the terrible things in the world that would break her tender heart. He could do none of it, except lie through his teeth and make promises he couldn’t keep, because that was all that he could think of.

He was shit at being a big brother, as it turned out.

“Just, I’m sure it’s fine so just stay put. I’m sure Seven’s just coming over to finally fix the security system. It’ll be fine when he gets there.” He swallowed back the acidic taste in the back of his throat, grimacing as he offered hope he didn’t believe in.

“Yes, you’re right, thank you Zen.” She sounded hollow again, like the world had finally taken the part of her heart that knew how to shine. He wanted to say more, to say anything to ease her pain, but he decided that he should let it go. She had every right to be upset or afraid, and as much as he might want to, he wasn’t the one that could take any of it away right now.

“Look, I’m gonna hang up now, okay? I’m gonna bug Jumin and we’ll try to track down V again. I’ll call you again as soon as I know something.”

“Okay, thank you again. Take care.”

She disconnected first, and he wanted to call back and keep talking to her until that wooden tone disappeared from her words, but there was no _time._ He felt like there was a clock ticking down to something terrible, and if he didn’t act quickly it would all blow up in their faces.

He pressed the call button to contact V, and listened to it ring until the voicemail rattled off the now memorized recording into his ear. He hung up, not bothering to leave a message, knowing that the seventeen that were already there were probably just filling up the inbox. Instead, he switched over to call Jumin, hoping that the stupid jerk had at least been able to make himself useful while everything fell down around them.

What a disaster.

***

The wind whistled as it slammed against the top of the building, knocking him to the side so that he had to struggle to keep his hold on the rope. He grinned as his feet dangled for a moment, the ground a million miles away. He was flying, soaring to heights unknown and untempered by the filthy ground, crossing ever closer to the path of salvation.

He righted himself, his heels settling back against the glass. He loosened his hold on the twisted metal cord, sliding down another ten feet before coming to a rest.

Patient, now. He didn’t want to go too fast. He didn’t want to slip and tumble to the ground, to bounce his skull against the pretty panes of mirrored glass like a broken bird, to splatter against the concrete in a burst of red mist and hysteria. He didn’t want that. Not when so much was at stake.

He giggled, and the wind tore the sound from his throat, carrying it up to the sun.

He was here to collect the packages. He was here to gather the gift for the Savior, and bring them closer to the gates of paradise. He would take that girl along with him. She had been so kind to help a stranger return a phone. She deserved the glory of heaven. She deserved peace eternal.

He slid another ten feet, looking down at the rows of spotless glass below him. He glanced back up, the wind whipping his hair into his eyes. He could feel it chilling his teeth as he smiled, but he didn’t care. Not far now. Not far.

The windows reflected the sunlight and the brilliant blue in the air all around him. It would be beautiful when it cracked, like the skies were breaking open to come tumbling to the ground. He wished that he could stand in the center, to feel it fall apart around him as the fire consumed his center, to feel himself dissolve into bits of matter that would float away, high into the heavens beyond the reach of the world. It would be glorious.

His path had better glory at its end, though. He would have revenge, and he would have peace.

Not much farther. Only a floor or two left to go.


	17. You're Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky meets Unknown.

She switched the burner off, taking the pan off the heated coil and holding it at an angle over the plate. She scooped the eggs that she no longer had an appetite for onto the plastic dish, then set the pan in the sink. She braced herself on the counter, staring at her feet, wondering if she had the capacity to be more worried than she was now.

As it turned out, the answer was yes.

The massive window along the wall on the other end of the room shattered, glass flying into the room along with open and empty wind. She screamed, throwing her arms over her head and trying to duck behind the counter as shards scattered all over the apartment. The world moved in slow motion as she crouched, trying to shrink as small as she could make herself, to curl inward until she could disappear. She felt like she heard each piece of the window hit the floor, each one another note in an intricate orchestra of chaos. The debris settled, and in the silence the wind reached a crescendo, seventeen floors worth of air rushing into the apartment to fill it with roaring gusts. Beneath that, out of her sight on the other side of the counter, she heard the crunch of footsteps walking across the floor.

She swallowed, her entire body shaking like a leaf, the last lonely leaf of fall clinging to its mother branch. She placed her hands against the cabinet door behind her, knowing that it was over. Knowing that this was it.

If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to do it cowering in the corner.

Nicky stood up, each movement calming her, each flex of her muscles smoother and easier than the last. When she stood at her full height and looked out across the ruins before her, she had to suck in a breath, the air trying to leave her lungs as fast as she could draw it in. She was hallucinating, that was the only explanation there could be. She could have sworn that the figure standing in the living room was Seven, haloed by the sunlight so that his face was cast in shadows. She blinked, and then she knew it for the crazed fantasy that it was, for the person that stepped into view was nothing like the warm and funny hacker that she knew.

He had pearl white hair and a dark mask wrapped around his face, his clothes a mess of black strips and belts. She could see a tattoo on his arm that triggered some familiarity, but she couldn’t recall where she had seen it before while he was leering at her. He took a step forward, and she stared into his eyes, an echo of something she felt like she knew very, very well, but twisted. A mirror into a world of shadow, showing her everything within herself that she never wanted to recognize in another.

He undid the mask around his face, letting it drop so that she could see him speak. “Nicolette, I presume?” his voice was thin and high, his smile too wide to be friendly. He took another step forward, and she stepped back automatically, bumping into the back of the fridge. He frowned. “You’re afraid. Don’t be. “

“You’re…you’re him?” her voice cracked in her fear, but she didn’t care. The songbird couldn’t sing when it was being choked by the poisons in the air, and the wind had stolen the last of her melody and replaced it with ash. All that was left was the raw truth, the raw realization that answers would be her only reward before her demise.

He smiled, his eyes closing as he tilted his head. ”You do remember. I thought you might have forgotten.”

“No.” A flash of anger filled her, but she couldn’t act on it. Her emotions crashed around inside her chest, worthless against the sheer terror freezing her in place.

“Good. I’ve come to take you to paradise.”

***

His foot was pounding the gas pedal down as low as it would go, the engine screaming beneath the hood as he sped down the highway. He glanced in the mirror, grateful for the small miracle that the roads were empty at this time of day, office workers already done with their commute and the general public not yet out and about.

He wouldn’t need a miracle if he hadn’t been such a fuck up. He wouldn’t be chanting a prayer in the back of his mind if he had been stronger, or smarter, or been able to keep his distance like he was supposed to. Stupid, stupid sentimental idiot.

_You keep grinning at her like that, it_ _’s only going to get her killed._

Vanderwood’s words echoed through his head, except now when he pictured her saying them there was a stream of blood pouring from her temple, her eyes rolled back so that her gaze was solid white. She had been right. He had kept grinning, he had kept messaging, he had kept gazing at her selfies as though it could make up for the fact that she couldn’t be with him in person. As though there had ever been a chance of that happening. He’d known, he’d known from the very beginning what he had been giving up when he signed up for this gig, and even knowing what it had gained, even knowing that he could never take it back, he had still let himself fall.

_Please be safe, please be safe_ _…_

He grabbed the shift and punched the car into the next gear, throttling the gas even further as the tires shrieked around a turn. He was out of time for dreams, out of time for regrets. He had fucked up, but he wasn’t going to let her die for it.

He wasn’t going to let her die.

***

“You don’t look very happy to see me.”

He was so close to her, an arm’s length away. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted to, to feel if he was real or a ghost, a demon sprung to life and launched through her window to drag her down to hell. She glanced at her phone, resting on the top of the counter next to her plate of uneaten breakfast, shards of glass scattered around it like fallen stars.

He looked where she looked, and then smirked. “You think this will save you?” he picked up her phone, twirling it between his long fingers. He took another half step closer to her, his eyes wider than a normal person’s would be. “Do you think that they really care?”

She tried to stop it, but the tear worked its way out of her eye and slid down her cheek. He tilted his head as he watched it, observing it like he had never seen one before, like she were an exotic creature that mystified him.

“Didn’t you learn? Before? That’s why I picked you, you know.” He leaned closer, and there was something in his eyes that bothered her. They were wide, and blue, sapphire like the summer sky, but they held no warmth. Instead all she could see was the storm, churning inside of him and unsettling his gaze. “You were alone.”

***

There were tire marks across the parking lot leading up to his shit parking job, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t risk taking the car to the apartment in case Vanderwood had chipped it, so he had found an empty lot and ditched it as quickly as he could.

He grabbed his bag and slammed the door, locking it more out of habit than presence of mind.

_Too slow, too slow_ _…_

He started running, the bag bouncing into the air with each step and slamming into the small of his back, but he ignored it. He needed to hurry, needed to be faster, stronger…his legs were shaking with the effort that it took, but he pushed forward. He would be lucky if he didn’t collapse from exhaustion before he got there. The sleepless nights, the rush of too much caffeine, the emotional strain tugging at his psyche, all of these things were stacking the odds against him. He didn’t stand a chance.

He also didn’t stop running, and he didn’t stop praying. She was going to live. She was going to be fine.

_Please be okay, Nicky, please_ _…_

_***_

The phone pinged in his hand, and he looked at it like it was a gadget fallen from outer space. His head twisted horizontally as he turned it to read the message that had popped up. She couldn’t see what it said through the blur of tears threatening to pour out of her eyes, but she recognized Yoosung’s picture.

“Hm. He’s asking if you’re okay. What should we tell him?” his voice had softened as he looked at her, waiting for a response.

“Please…”

“Okay, a good start.” He nodded his head, and to her horror he unlocked her phone, brining up the message and typing what she had said. “Now what?”

“Oh God…”

“That’s good.” He added her next words, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, keeping it from betraying her further.

He frowned, looking at her as though she had broken a dish and he was prepared to take the blame on her behalf. “I understand. It’s overwhelming. Here, I can say the rest.” His fingers flew across the screen, his face screwed up in concentration as he used her phone and her name and her face to send something to Yoosung. He finished, smiling with the crystalline innocence of a child completing a painting. He held the phone up to her face.

**Nicolette: Oh god** **…**

**Yoosung: Nicky! What** **’s going on?!**

**Nicolette: I** **’ve been chosen by the Savior, and it’s time for me to go. Please be patient, the disciples will return for you soon.**

**Yoosung: what? O.o**

**Yoosung: Nicky?**

**Yoosung: NICKY?!?! DON** **’T JUST DISAPPEAR AFTER THAT**

He lowered his arm, pressing the sleep button as he did, and she couldn’t see the screen any longer. Messages continued to flood in, the notification sound trilling over and over again. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the phone down the hallway, and she heard it skid against the carpet until it thumped into the back wall. The sound for the notifications stopped.

He turned on his heel, making her jump as he stalked away from her with unexpected speed. He walked through the glass strewn carpet and over to the desk, yanking open one of the drawers with enough force to rip it off its track, scattering papers and books everywhere.

“Hm. Messy. I don’t like that.” He kicked some of the items aside, pouting as he looked them over. Then he pulled out another drawer, holding it up at an angle so he could see what was inside. He let out a yelp of rage before he flung it aside, sending it crashing into the wall, and Nicky screamed in surprise. He looked back at her, blinking like an owl woken up before the fall of night. “I won’t hurt you.”

She didn’t respond, which didn’t seem to bother him, and he returned to destroying the desk, sifting through the contents. He didn’t seem to have a rhyme or reason, picking up objects at random to examine them closely before tossing them aside. She glanced towards the hallway, looking in the direction that her phone had flown with abject longing.

“Don’t. It won’t help you. You’re alone, remember?” he wasn’t looking at her, still absorbed in his task. He talked like a mother lecturing an errant child, but there was an edge of darkness to it that no parent should have. “They’ll forget about you. They forgot about the Savior. They believed easy lies because it was convenient. I’m sure that will happen with you, too. Maybe he’ll tell them you jumped from the window. It would be nice to fly before death. Much better than the sea.”

Her heart thudded in her ears and she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Who was the Savior? They had never mentioned anybody like that before… _Maybe he_ _’ll tell them you jumped from the window…_

It was folly, but she had to know. There was something in the things he said that bothered her, that pricked at the edges of her senses like an alarm bell ringing underwater. “Can you…can you tell me about the savior?” her voice shook, trembling with an uncontrollable vibrato so that she could hardly form the words. She bit the inside of her cheek to hold in the sob that tried to tear its way out of her chest.

“No.” He picked up the computer monitor and flung it across the room, wrinkling his nose in distaste as it hit the floor and buckled into two pieces. “She likes to introduce herself.”

“Who’s going to say that I jumped out the window?”

“V.”

“V?” she gasped the name, certain that her mind had departed reality and started making things up.

“Yes.” He moved to a bookshelf on the other side of the desk, sliding a finger across the spines of the books.

She wished that she had her phone. She wished that she could send a message - to anyone - to tell them what she had just heard. She didn’t know what it meant, but maybe it would give them a clue, maybe it would help them know that she hadn’t disappeared on them, that she hadn’t left without saying goodbye. Maybe her last words to any of them wouldn’t have to be the ones authored by the monster that had killed her.

“Ah, here it is.” He lifted a thin sheet of black film from between two large photo albums on the shelf. He held it up so that it flapped in the wind, catching the sunlight, and she could see the outline of a disk in the center. He smiled, still too wide, still stretched so that it didn’t look human, and then his gaze returned to her.

His steps across the living room were slow and deliberate, graceful enough that he seemed to be gliding through the disaster of his own making. He was dancing, every movement of his body music without sound, and it carried him back in front of her, where he leaned forward, pressing his nose against her own.

“It’s time.”

***

He almost broke the door to the lobby with the force that he used to fling it open, his flat tops pounding against the fancy marble floors. He stumbled, tripping on is leaden feet as he made it to the far wall. He looked between the elevator and the stairwell…but it was no use. The apartment was on the 17th floor, there was no way that he would be able to run faster than an elevator could climb.

He slammed his finger on the button, and the musical chime notified him that the request for use was received.

Seven stared at the chrome doors and waited, trying to catch his breath as he continued to pray.

_I_ _’m almost there, Nicky, please be okay…_

***

He stepped back and held out his hand with a flourish, palm open wide and fingers splayed; an invitation. “Come. I’m here to bring you to paradise, and we should get going soon.”

She looked him in the eye and decided that going quietly into that eerie night was not the fate she would choose.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

His face contorted into a snarl, his eyes narrowing until they were cerulean slits beneath his furrowed brow. He reached out, lightning fast, and grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward and into the middle of the living room. She cried out in pain as his fingers dug into her wrist, bruising her to the bone with the force of his grip. They moved closer to the window and she stumbled on the carpet, the glass ripping through the bottom of her socks and cutting into her feet.

“Please…” she couldn’t stop the tears now, the pain and the fear and the terrifying wind buffeting her from the broken window, all of these things were too much, and her bravery crumbled to dust. “What did I ever do to you?”

He pulled upward, tugging her arm into the air so that she was forced to stand on her tiptoes, her eyes level with his. “You never did anything to me. You’re an innocent, and that’s why I’m bringing you to paradise.” He brought his other hand up to cup her chin, the black film crinkling as it brushed against her cheek. His voice was a gentle murmur as he spoke the next words, his breath lingering on her skin as he looked at her with open honesty that was terrifying in its purity. “Please don’t be afraid. You won’t be alone anymore.”


	18. The First and Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven meets Unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say you guys are a blessing and your comments have made me cry more than once so please know that I LOVE YOU ALL.

He was halfway down the hall when he heard her.

It was muffled through the walls, through the doors and the layers of carpet lining the floor, but he would have known the sound anywhere. Parts of him split into smaller, more jagged pieces as her pain and fear registered alongside his own. He never wanted to hear her voice make that sound again. She was a singer. She was full of light and wonder, full of music both sad and beautiful. It was against the laws of nature for that sound to tear itself out of her throat.

_My fault._

He ran faster, skidding in front of the door and bouncing against the corner before he was able to right himself. The lock looked untouched, the opening unhindered. He heard her cry out again, and he knew that he had run out of time and luck, run out of whatever good graces his prayers had earned him. He input the code for the lock, his fingers shaking so badly that he messed it up and had to start again, the light at the top blinking at him with accusation and malice. Finally it turned green, and he slammed the doorknob downward, shouldering the door so hard that it bounced against the wall as it burst open.

There she was, held aloft like a prize, dangling from the fingers of the trespasser that had haunted her for the entire time Seven had known her. He couldn’t see his face, but he could see Nicky’s, and it was drawn and stricken with fear, her eyes wide and her cheeks stained with the tracks of her tears. There was glass and chaos everywhere around them, but he could hardly see it because his eyes were filled with her pale skin, his ears deafened by the whimper between her lips when she saw him enter, every sense attuned to her beating heart and his all-consuming need to keep it that way.

“Let her go you son of a bitch!”

The man tilted his head just enough to indicate that he had heard Seven, but not enough for his face to be seen. “ _You_ came. I didn’t expect that.”

“Seven…” she gasped out his name and had to suck in air around a stuttering sob that broke her words. “Run! Get out of here!”

The man tilted his head at her, his pale hair hanging to the side. “Hm. You like him. Will you be sad that he isn’t coming with us?”

“Please, let him go…” her lip trembled, and Seven took a step forward.

The man held up his hand, a single finger extended in Seven’s direction, giving him pause. He was holding a sheet of shiny black paper, which he let flutter to the floor. Then he took his hand and tucked it into the folds of his shirt, pulling something out of it. When he held up his arm again there was a small device with a bright red button at the tip of it, displayed prominently against his palm.

“One more step and the world burns.”

Of course. That explained why the failsafe hadn’t triggered. That explained why it had appeared that someone had been trying to detonate the bomb remotely, and then deactivate it permanently. It had been neither of those things. The hacker had created a kill switch, his own personal boom button, and now he had Nicky in one hand and her death in the other.

She sucked in a breath that rattled in her throat, her eyes flashing. “Look, you want me, right? Let Seven leave. I’ll…I’ll go with you to meet the savior. To…to paradise.” Her gaze was desperate, but she refused to look at Seven, her focus intense on the man in front of her.

Still, in the middle of everything. Still she was concerned about him. 

“No! Nicky - ”

“I’m sorry to make you sad.” The man’s voice hovered between sympathy and madness, a hitch to his words that made Seven’s blood run cold. “I don’t like making you sad. You’re a good person. But he can’t come to paradise.”

Her relief was palpable in the wind ravaged air. “I know. It’s okay - ”

“He can’t _leave_ either.” Hard, sharp, the words were a sword thrust in Nicky’s gut and she recoiled from them. Seven saw her crumple, and he wanted desperately to run to her, to peel her out of this bastard’s fingers and take her far, far away from everything. _Should have been faster_ _…_

He looked at the red button below the hacker’s thumb, and he stayed rooted in place.

“No, please, Unknown, I’m begging you…”

The hacker giggled, and it was a violent sound, lacking mirth, lacking joy, lacking the fundamental components of a human laugh. “That’s not my name.”

Seven clenched his jaw, unable to handle silence any longer. “Oh, then what is your name? Who are you, and what do you want with her?!”

“ _YOU DON_ _’T GET TO SAY MY NAME!”_ the vehemence and viciousness in his voice shook the world, and his grip must have tightened on Nicky’s wrist because she cried out in pain, her eyes squeezing shut so that new tears leaked out of the corners.

“Let. Her. Go.” He clenched his fist, wishing that he could throw it into the back of the man’s head, wishing that he could hit him until he let go of Nicky, until he stopped talking, until he stopped haunting them like a ghost bound by chains of hate and obsession.

“If I do will you burn happily, Saeyoung?” his words were quiet, so low that they could barely be heard, but Seven froze as though shocked by the boom of thunder.

“What did you just say?” he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His heart couldn’t beat. His blood wouldn’t pump. He ceased to exist, standing in the middle of a broken world, the wind wiping away the tears on the face of the girl he loved, rustling the hair of the man that said a name no one should know.

He turned, slowly, Nicky struggling to follow as her toes scraped over glass and disaster. Seven noticed the bruise blooming on her arm, her fingers white for lack of circulation.

He looked different. He looked like he had been dragged through hell and back, like he had been murdered and revived and murdered again, like he had suffered through the torment of a thousand copies of their childhood, all to become the leering monster that stood in front of him. But his eyes…his eyes were the same, the same bright blue that looked to the sky like mirrors that reflected serenity. They had always been so wide with wonder, so easy to fill with awe even when the world tried to crush it out of them. There was no serene hope in them now, thought. Only broiling darkness, only bitter loathing that was turned in Seven’s direction. The blue burned with fire and ash, with acid and anger that dissolved all it beheld.

“Saeran…”

“ _No._ _”_ He spat a denial, guttural and full of rage. “You don’t get to say my name. Don’t say it. Not ever. Not after what you did, you filthy, disgusting _LIAR!_ _”_ his arms shook, his thumb touching the top of the button with a another fraction of force.

“What happened? I don’t understand, what happened?” he took half a step forward, tears filling his eyes. His head spun, memories and thoughts and complicated, indescribable emotions overflowing from his center. _A picture of a butterfly dancing above his brother_ _’s sweet smile…_

“Don’t play dumb. What, you think that you can pretend? For her?” Saeran brandished her, shaking her so that her arm twisted and she grimaced in pain. “You think you can leave me and move on to live happily ever after?! You left! You left me! You left1 You left! You left! _YOU THINK YOU DON_ _’T HAVE TO PAY FOR THAT?!”_ he was screaming, the force of his words ripping out of his chest, knives hurtled into Seven’s heart.

No, into Saeyoung’s heart.

“I didn’t…I don’t understand. Saeran, help me understand. I did it _for_ you!”

_“LIES!”_ He dropped Nicky, grabbing her around the waist before she could topple to the floor, and took a step back towards the window, dragging her with him.

Everything he had ever worked to protect was hanging on the precipice of death, standing before his eyes in one scene of peril that was more than anything his worst nightmares could ever have conjured.

“Please…” he took a step towards them, holding his arms out, pleading.

“Get _AWAY!_ _”_ Saeran took another step towards the window, another step towards madness. What could he do? What could he say? Everything that he thought was true dissolved away, scattered across the endless blue sky behind the gaping window. Where was the butterfly? Where was the burst of light in the pictures that had proved what he had done was right? There was no explanation in Saeran’s eyes, only hatred, seething against the confines of his shaking frame. He was so thin, he was so bitter. His grip tightened around Nicky’s waist and she gasped, her eyes closing as she struggled to breathe.

She took a deep, slow breath, and the brief flutter of determination on her expression terrified Seven more than anything ever had. She lifted her arm with slow, graceful deliberation and placed her hand on Saeran’s shoulder, her fingers shaking as she drew his attention. “Saeran, right?” He looked at her, and his eyes glazed over, confusion flooding his expression. “Listen to me. Whatever happened, whatever it is, it wasn’t on purpose.”

Saeran blinked. “You’re kind. You don’t understand. You should. You know what it feels like to hold broken promises.”

A tear slipped down the side of her face, hanging on the edge of her chin before plummeting to the floor. “I do. I do know. But you have to remember not everyone is like that.”

What was she doing? Seven took another cautious, halting step forward while Saeran was absorbed in her conversation. If he could just get to them and get them away from the window, get the detonator out of Saeran’s hand…

_Saeran, what_ _’s happened to you?_

“He _is_.” Saeran’s face contorted with disgust.

“You’re wrong.” Her conviction was as clear as the chime of silver bells, ringing out in the freezing night to remind the world of the dawn, her chin jutting forward in stubborn insistence. Seven loved her so much in that moment that he could have died…but he also wanted to grab her and shake sense into her, to make her stop pushing Saeran. He didn’t want her sending them both tumbling over the edge by taking it a step too far. Both halves of his heart, severed in one simple jump.

_Please_ _…_

He took another step closer. Another foot and he could make his move, could try to salvage whatever hope was left in this broken moment. He could grab Saeran and pull them away from the edge, twisting his wrist to wrest the device from his fingers. He could keep them from death and apologize for whatever mistakes he had made, apologize for whatever his negligence had allowed to happen to them both. Just one more foot.

She moved her hand from Saeran’s shoulder and placed it on the hand that clutched the detonator. Seven froze, the world froze, time and life and the wind all ceased to move as he watched in horror.

She used her fingers to move his thumb from the button, both of them grasping the cold metal as one, her hand keeping his stilled. “Trust me.” Slowly, very, very slowly she parted his fingers, prying the detonator free from his grasp as he watched her, trapped in a strange trance, in awe of her actions. _Stupid, stupid, beautiful, wonderful girl_ _…_

Seven took another step, and then he bounced on his heel and leaped, diving at the pair of them. He got a fistful of Saeran’s shirt as he rocketed into the carpet, pulling him to the side towards the couch. Nicky screamed as she went with them, the three crashing into the ground and rolling across the shards of the broken window. Something hard slammed into the back of his head and his vision exploded into a riot of green, flashing stars. They hit the couch, a tangle of struggle and adrenaline, and Seven tried to right himself while his sight faded in and out of focus. It was no good, Saeran had landed on top of him, and Seven was crushed into the ground as his brother’s heel dug into the small of his back.

“Saeran. wait!” Nicky’s voice filled the room, and then the pressure on his back was gone, leaving him empty and aching. He heard the door crack against the wall again, and then all that filled his ears was the wind.

Nicky shifted next to him, and he blinked away the fog in front of his eyes to see her kneeling over him, concern etched into the green flecks of her hazel eyes. He rolled over onto his back, wheezing as air worked its way back into his flattened lungs.

“Seven?”

Tears shimmered in her gaze, and she was just so damn bright that he couldn’t help himself.

“Idiot.” He reached up and grabbed her, pulling her into his arms and clutching her to his chest. He felt her shudder against him, her tears soaking his shirt. He closed his eyes, memorizing the way she felt, memorizing the way she fit perfectly against him. He tattooed the softness of her skin into his bones, carved the elegance of her scent into his heart. In this moment the world disappeared, and it was only him and her, hearts beating together to fill the void that he had always known was there. He imagined the stars, a million points of light shimmering in the blackness, a new one flaring to life with each breath that she took cradled in his arms. She was as bright as the stars, brighter, giving them meaning as she danced across the sky. He memorized it all, keeping it vivid and alive in the back of his mind so that he could cherish the way it felt forever.

So that he would never forget the first and last time he would get to hold her.


	19. All Her Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yoosung makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, this is getting rough to write. I am having some serious feelings over here. SOMEONE HOLD ME.

She felt his heartbeat against her cheek and marveled at all her blessings. It didn’t matter that she had just faced down a madman. It didn’t matter that her life had nearly fallen seventeen stories to end on the cold ground below. It didn’t matter that she was bruised and bleeding, or that her eyes hurt from crying. What mattered were the arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe from the biting wind, holding her like they would never, ever let go.

She had not known what it meant to be warm until this moment.

He smelled like honey and spice. Once, when she was little, her father had taken her to the mountains, and there had been a field of flowers, their petals angular and curling. They might have been lilies, but she couldn’t recall. As they had gotten out of the car the sky above them had opened up, a light drizzle drifting from the gentle storm. They were so high up that she felt like she was inside of the clouds, part of the shifting grey that brought water and life to the world. What she remembered most about that day was the way it smelled, the sweet spice of the flowers mingling with the dewy fresh scent of the rain. As she lay on his chest breathing in tandem with him, the way he smelled reminded her of that, and of how wonderful it had felt to spin in the field of flowers, laughing at the heavens. She felt at peace, like she had rekindled some part of herself that had forgotten what happiness felt like, and at his touch it had flared back to life.

Her pulse was just returning to a normal rhythm when she felt his arms stiffen around her. He shifted, sitting up and setting her aside, hands around her shoulders like she was a delicate china doll. He was gentle, but it felt strange, as though he was peeling off a bandage and trying to avoid the sting.

He wasn’t looking at her.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, his smell still clinging to her clothes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He used his hands as leverage against the floor and stood up, walking across the apartment to the kitchen. His spine felt too straight, the muscles in his shoulders too tight. His voice sounded far away, echoed to her from the far end of a tunnel.

“Seven…”

“Just…” he stopped, running his hand through his hair. His eyes closed, and he looked like he had been wounded, like someone was running a knife into his gut. “Just sit there quietly.”

She lied to herself, reasoning that it hadn’t hurt to hear him say that. She lied, and told herself that he didn’t sound hollow, that his voice wasn’t cold and flat like a creeping glacier.

She remembered the look in his eyes when he had seen the hacker’s face. She would never forget that, for as long as she lived. His golden gaze had filled with so much shock, so much unspeakable despair, and she had wanted to do nothing more than take it all away from him. She wanted to open up his chest and yank it all out, stuffing it into her own. She wanted to bear the weight of it, to bring back his smile and laugh. She could hold the shadows. They would get along with all of her own. She could be the darkness so that he could be the light.

He had asked for silence, but that was a difficult task at the moment. She had questions, a great many of them, and she knew that he would have answers to at least some of them.

He still wasn’t looking at her.

She placed her hands on the edge of the couch and stood, and as soon as her weight was on her feet she wanted to scream. It felt like someone had driven nails into her flesh, the cuts along her heels open and burning as they pressed into the carpet. She bit her tongue, keeping it to herself, but she couldn’t control the hiss of shock that slipped out without her bidding. She glanced to the kitchen, but he was opening and closing cabinets, looking for something. His back was turned, his eyes pointed anywhere but at her. She took a moment to catch her breath before gritting her teeth and hopping onto the couch. Another lance of pain shot through her legs, but she kept it quiet this time. She curled into the cushion, leaning back as her head spun in lazy circles. The dizziness was overwhelming, and she closed her eyes against it, wondering if she could return to the warmth that she had held just minutes ago, if the world would ever stop spinning out of her control.

She heard him mutter something to himself, and she turned to see him lifting a broom from around the side of the refrigerator. He hefted it in his hand and walked to the middle of the living room, turning to survey the mess. His expression was stoic, rigid and unmoving. His eyes seemed flat, and horribly empty. Something caught his attention down the length of the hallway, and he stalked off out of sight, then returned a moment later with her phone in hand. He shoved the broom in the crook of his arm and lifted the device close to his face, looking it over. He fiddled with the buttons before a minuscule smirk tilted the side of his lips, and the screen turned on.

He walked over and held it out to her without looking at her. She tried to tuck her feet beneath her as surreptitiously as she could, hiding the blood, while she looked at the screen. There was a crack running diagonally across the length of the display, but otherwise it looked unharmed, and she could see the alert notifying her that she had thirty-seven missed messages from Yoosung.

“Thank you.” She reached out and grabbed it, but his fingers tightened around it before she could take it, holding them both in the middle of the exchange. Poised in limbo, trapped in a space between which felt like it carried over to more than just two hands on a phone. Her whole world felt like it was in sway, stuck between two things, and she couldn’t name them, couldn’t understand them.

She couldn’t find his gaze.

“Listen, about…what he said…”

“What he called you?” she chewed on her lower lip, trying to meet his eyes with her own.

He stared at the ground. “Yeah. Could you not mention that to the others? That, or…his name.”

“Of course.” He let go of the phone and started to walk away, and it felt like another physical blow. “Are you…okay?”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his face motionless, his jaw clenched.

Without a word he picked up the broom and started sweeping away the broken glass, cleaning the disaster left all over the remnants of what had been her home for the last week. Her throat felt dry as she watched him, wondering what had come over him, wondering if some part of him had broken today. Perhaps he had shattered like the window, and now the pieces didn’t know how they fit back together anymore. Perhaps they had simply blown away in the wind.

“I…I have questions.” She pressed her fingers over her throat, trying to calm her pulse, afraid that her heart would leap out of her veins if she didn’t restrain it.

He hung his head, and when he looked at her she could feel a void behind his eyes, full of agony that took her breath away. “Fine…but later.”

He returned to his task, swishing the bristles across the floor, knocking glass into piles of shimmering destruction.

Time. She wanted to give him all the time in the world, all the time that she had to her name. She wanted to tell him that he could take every second of every minute, every minute of every hour. She wanted to tell him that he could have every sunrise and sunset…but he wouldn’t look at her.

She had so many questions, but she would wait. For a time, at least. She believed in him, and she believed that he would come back to her, from wherever he was, and she could do her best to revive the smile that she loved so much.

She settled into the most comfortable position that she could manage while sitting on her broken feet and opened her phone, pulling up the miles of messages that Yoosung had sent so that she could respond. She didn’t read through all of them, her tired mind unable to sort through his panic at the moment. Instead she skipped them, typing in her own as though it were a brand new conversation. 

She tried not to cry because he wouldn’t look at her.

***

He was not religious, but he was sitting at the edge of his bed, head in hand, praying for guidance.

He had never seen Nicky talk like that, and she hadn’t been answering her phone since she had sent it. Yoosung didn’t know what to do. It had been over half an hour, and he was sitting stricken with indecision that he couldn’t shake. Should he call someone? The only person he could think to talk to was Seven, but he was already on his way there if the chatroom could be believed. Did that mean something bad was happening?

He stood up, tears blurring his vision as he started to pace. He couldn’t take this, couldn’t handle more secrets and lies. She was going to disappear like Rika, and he wouldn’t even be able to say goodbye. Was that what girls like that did? Did they burn so brightly that they had to fade away so soon? All he would have to remember her by was a creepy message that gave him no answers and filled him full of questions.

His phone dinged, and he snatched it off the bed, wiping his eyes with the edge of his sleeve.

**Nicolette: YOOSUNG**

He let out a cry of excitement, opening his messages to see that she was already typing another.

**Nicolette: I** **’M OKAY**

**Nicolette: It** **’s really me this time too I swear**

**Yoosung: WHAT**

**Yoosung: HAPPENED?????**

**Nicolette: a LOT**

**Yoosung: are you really okay?**

**Yoosung: I was so scared T_T**

**Nicolette: yeah, a little bruised but otherwise fine**

**Yoosung: Bruised?! So something did happen**

**Nicolette: Yeah** **…**

**Nicolette:** **…**

Yoosung sat back on his bed, holding his breath as he waited for her to explain. He didn’t want to hear it, because the thought of something terrible happening was too much for him to bear, but he needed to know.

**Nicolette: Unknown came. Seven got here in time, though.**

**Yoosung: ?!?!?!?!**

**Yoosung: oh my god**

**Yoosung: I can** **’t believe he really came after you**

**Yoosung: are you sure you** **’re okay?**

**Nicolette:** **…**

**Nicolette: I** **’ll live.**

**Nicolette: The window in the apartment tho** **…**

**Nicolette: not so much.**

**Yoosung: What happened to the window?**

**Yoosung: T_T and how can you joke at a time like this**

**Nicolette: Unknown came through the window. Broke straight through.**

**Nicolette: and laughing about it makes it seem small**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t know, I might be going crazy**

**Yoosung: ?**

**Nicolette: It** **’s hard to explain.**

**Nicolette: Unknown is gone**

**Nicolette: and Seven is here**

**Nicolette: but he** **’s really upset**

**Yoosung: I** **’m sure he was just scared for you**

**Nicolette: yeah, maybe**

He looked at the screen, his eyes losing focus. She sounded sad even through her messages, but he didn’t know what he could say to help. He knew how to talk to her about games, and how to joke with her about all the terrible things in their Steam libraries…but he didn’t know how to make her feel better about being attacked. He’d never known anyone who had been through anything like that before, and all he could think of was how useless he felt.

All because of V.

He wasn’t able to go do something about the danger because V never answered his phone. V disappeared and left them when they needed it most, and Seven had been forced to handle everything by himself. What was he trying to hide in that apartment? Why hadn’t he ever told any of them that it existed, and was still full of Rika’s things? Even after Nicky showed up, they were supposed to pretend that it was fine. He was just supposed to accept that he couldn’t go there. Because of what? Of classified information? How could it be classified from them! They were all members!

All the lies. All the secrets. He was sick of them.

**Yoosung: but I** **’m so angry!**

**Nicolette: ?**

**Yoosung: You could have gotten hurt**

**Yoosung: worse than bruised, even**

**Yoosung: and maybe we could have helped**

**Yoosung: if V had just been honest!!!**

**Nicolette:** **…**

**Yoosung: don** **’t tell me that I should trust him**

**Yoosung: or believe in him**

**Yoosung: Rika is gone and I never got an explanation**

**Yoosung: and you could have disappeared too!**

**Yoosung: I** **’ll never trust him.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m…I’m not sure you should.**

**Yoosung: really?! I thought you trusted him because Seven trusted him.**

**Nicolette: I did. I do.**

**Nicolette: I want to.**

**Yoosung: Did something happen?**

**Nicolette: yes but** **…**

**Nicolette: and please don** **’t hate me >.>**

**Nicolette: but I can** **’t talk about it.**

**Nicolette: YET.**

**Yoosung:** **…**

**Nicolette: I promise I will. But I need to talk to Seven first.**

**Yoosung: he** **’s right there, right?**

**Yoosung: so just talk to him**

**Nicolette:** **…**

**Nicolette: He** **’s not talking to me.**

A small, hard ball of unease formed in the pit of his stomach. It seemed impossible, to think that Seven wasn’t speaking to her. They were in the same apartment! After all this time…they had grown so close, Yoosung had always assumed they would be inseparable the minute they met in person. He had never seen Seven get along with anyone the way that he did with Nicky, so how could he not be talking to her after what she had been through?

**Yoosung: I** **’m sorry, I shouldn’t be pestering you about it**

**Yoosung: I believe you that you** **’ll tell me when you’re ready.**

**Yoosung: but** **…**

**Yoosung: is he really not talking to you?**

**Nicolette: Nope.**

**Nicolette: it** **’s…**

**Nicolette: *sigh* I don** **’t even know what to say about it.**

**Nicolette: it hurts.**

**Nicolette: anyways**

**Nicolette: subject change**

**Nicolette: sorry you got the creepiest message in the universe**

**Yoosung: T_T what even was that?**

**Nicolette: he had my phone when you messaged**

**Yoosung: GROSS THAT WAS HIM SENDING IT?**

**Nicolette: yeah** **…**

**Yoosung: OH MY GOD**

**Yoosung: HOW LONG WAS HE THERE?**

**Nicolette: um** **…I think he broke though the window at around 7 or so?**

**Nicolette: god it** **’s already almost 9???**

**Nicolette: I** **’m exhausted -_-**

**Yoosung: you should go rest :(**

**Nicolette: I can try -_-**

**Nicolette: Thanks for listening to me ramble**

**Nicolette: and** **…**

**Nicolette: thanks for caring enough to send 37 messages <3**

He smiled, but he wasn’t sure if he felt it. He fell backwards onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling. She was okay. The world didn’t seem to be, since everything was still so weird, but at least she was alive. Alive enough to make jokes.

He couldn’t remember the last joke that Rika had made. He frowned, trying to pull the memories from his brain, trying to recall any time that she had made him laugh. He remembered smiling. He remembered being happy when she was around…but he couldn’t remember a single joke. Maybe Nicky and Rika were different, after all…

He clenched his fist, the sheets on his bed catching between his fingers. He was failing in school. He was failing at being an adult. He was failing in the things that he had always thought were important to his life. He had failed Rika, because he couldn’t see what was wrong until after she was gone.

In this one thing, he wouldn’t fail. When it came to Nicky, he was going to be the best friend that he could be. He sat upright, pumping his fist in the air in determination, grinning to himself because he could just picture the glint in his eye as he made his decision. Yoosung was ready, and he would refuse to accept defeat! He would undertake this great quest with courage, and perseverance! He would prevail!

His posture sagged and he flopped backwards on the bed again, letting his hair spill over his eyes.

 At least, he would do his best as soon as he thought of something he could actually _do._


	20. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are not getting better.

She put her phone to sleep, hoping that she had eased Yoosung’s mind about what had happened. Her hands folded against her lap, and she took a moment to breathe, trying to pull in deep, calming air. Her dizziness had subsided, but the throbbing in her feet was getting worse. She should probably get up to treat them, but the apartment was full of tension, and it felt exhausting just sitting perfectly still. Moving seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. When had the world grown so heavy?

She watched, her gaze absent and unfocused, as Seven continued his methodical cleaning. He had managed to clear a good portion of the glass out of the way, although there was still a riot of items from Rika’s desk scattered everywhere. The room was a mess, but there was something more than that making it feel like a disaster. It was as though the break-in had crippled the spirit of the apartment, taking something fundamental from it so that now it felt beaten and used. It was even less welcoming than it had felt to her that first night, when she had stared at the ceiling wondering if the scent on the pillows was detergent or the last remnants of a dead girl. _Then_ it had been uncomfortable, but now it was unbearable. It felt hollowed out, and everything that used to be there had been replaced with sinking unease, a horrible strain that was choking her slowly.

She was watching his face when he glanced at her, and their eyes locked for the barest measure of a heartbeat.

He winced, looking back at the floor. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Just stop staring.”

She wanted to scream, but she kept her voice even. “You told me not to talk.”

“Don’t. And don’t look either.” He bent over, picking up a stack of papers that were scattered at his feet.

“So, I can’t talk, and I can’t look. Would you like me to power down? I’m sure I have an off switch somewhere, if we look hard enough we could probably find it.” She hated everything that she had just said, but she couldn’t help it. She was scared, and angry, and she was sitting here with someone that she had thought was her best friend, yet felt as though she was all alone.

His hair covered his eyes, so she couldn’t see his expression. “Just stop talking.”

She looked away, staring at the gap in the glass, the sky turning the vivid blue of late morning. She refused to cry. She couldn’t cry, because if she started she would never stop. Everything would come rushing out of her until she was emptied, and there would be nothing left to move on with. Maybe she was the one that had broken. Maybe her sanity had evaporated in those tense moments before Seven had arrived, and now all of this was a horrible hallucination of her own making.

Punishment for her sins.

When she had composed herself enough she glanced back at him, careful to keep her face pointed away so that he wouldn’t accuse her of staring again. It was then that she noticed the logo on the papers in his hand, and recognition flared up from the depths of her confusion.

“I know that!” she pointed at the paper, her other hand twisting around the hem of her shirt. The surety was horrible, alarm bells blaring in her head, ill omen and fear tainting the bitterness already at the back of her tongue.

He sighed, as though everything she did was an inconvenience. “So?”

“No, Seven, listen. That logo, on the paper? The eye? That was in the email I got! The one with the link for the RFA app.”

He turned, looking at her with interest for the first time since they had gotten off of the floor. “What? Really?”

“Yep. I’m sure of it. I remember I had never seen it before, so I wasn’t sure what company that it belonged to. It was weird, so it stuck in my mind.”

He turned in a circle, clutching the paper and looking through the chaos. “Where did this come from? Do you know where it was before?”

“It must have come out of Rika’s desk. I think most of the stuff on the floor is from there, he tore it apart looking for that disk.”

“What disk?” His gaze was full curiosity, and she didn’t realize how much she had missed his eyes until she was looking into them again.

“The black film…” she leaned forward, her eyes scanning the chaos, looking for the place where the sheet of black paper had been dropped. She spotted it and pointed, marveling that not that long ago she had been standing in that spot as an intruder pulled a big, red button out of his pocket. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m pretty sure you requested that I shut up.”

A faint tint of pink bloomed into view across his cheeks. “I didn’t put it like that…” for a second he sounded like himself. For a brief, shining moment he was Seven again, and she had to blink several times to clear the tears of relief from her eyes.

He walked across the room and picked the sheet up off the carpet, holding it up into the naked sunlight filling the room, unhindered by the window that was no more. The disk shown in the middle, a round halo shrouded in deep grey. He turned and walked towards the door, grabbing his bag off of the floor and pulling out a laptop, which he set on the counter. He rifled through the pockets of his jacket for a moment before pulling out a small pen knife, which he flipped open with a practiced click. He slid the blade into the black film, breaking it open before he shook the disk out into his hand. He popped it in the laptop, and then waited as the computer whirred to life. After a few seconds an error message popped up on the screen, and he frowned at it.

“Shit. Encrypted.” His hands met the keyboard and he typed in a flurry of things that appeared in a black box on the screen, then a loading bar sprang into view.

Then he picked up the broom and resumed his cleaning, once again not looking at her. Once again, he was gone.

A crack appeared along the center of her heart, running deep and long. She could feel it forming, feel the network of hairline fingers extending from the main vein, what would soon become a chasm inside her chest. It was the first crack, and she could feel that it would split her in two if it wasn’t mended.

She had to speak. She had to, she had to bring him back from wherever he kept going. “Why would Rika have something with that logo on it?”

He shrugged, and she waited for him to say more. He didn’t.

“Listen, there was something else -”

“Can you go back to being quiet now?” He spoke softly, but he might as well have slapped her. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. His voice had returned to the flat, emotionless void that was swallowing the light in the room. He was a million miles away again, already out of reach, and it hurt more acutely than anything she had experienced before.

She felt herself falling deeper into darkness. “Have I done something? Are you mad at me?”

He rolled his shoulders, shrugging his jacket higher up around his neck. He looked like he was trying to curl into it, to hide from her gaze as it blurred with tears that she was refusing to let fall.

“Just forget about it.”

She wanted to scream at him, but she held her tongue. She wanted to get up and shake him, to take his face in her hands and force him to see her again, to look her in the eyes and explain. She wanted to fall into his arms and go back to the point where everything had been easy, where everything had made sense. What had she done to provoke this? What had she done to make him look at her as if he couldn’t see her at all?

_Again. It_ _’s happening again._

She had been reborn when she joined the RFA, and now it felt as though she were dying again. She was being killed, slowly, one drop of blood at a time seeping out of the bottom of her feet until there wouldn’t be anything left. Would he look at her then? Would she be any more visible if she stopped existing? She had lived this before. She had been on the end of the rope when those that she trusted had let it drop, sending her plummeting while they laughed. He wasn’t laughing at her, but he wasn’t looking at her either, and the free fall of loneliness was building heavy brick walls in her chest.

Nicky shook her head, allowing the silence to encompass the room. She couldn’t think like that. She had to have faith. She had to believe that whatever was wrong could be overcome, because the alternative was too much to consider.

Once again, Nicky held back the tears and waited for the world to break or renew.

***

Jaehee ducked around the corner, letting the men in their stuffy suits walk past, their shoes scuffing the carpet as they filed towards the elevator. She fished her phone out of her pocket, worry making a crease form along her brow as she slid the unlock button across the screen.

She had seen Luciel’s messages earlier, but hadn’t had a chance to do more than worry since then. Meetings, paperwork, and trying to deal with the Han’s family problems had occupied every minute of her time, and she was terrified that something had happened.

She pulled open her messages with Nicky, their last exchange still on the screen, their discussion about the virtues of musical theater the last thing they had shared. She wished she were contacting her about that again, that she was just checking in to loan her a DVD or invite her to a show. She wished she wasn’t scared out of her mind that it was too late for any of that.

She paused, wondering what it was she wanted to say. _Be safe? Please be alive? Please don_ _’t disappear because you are the only thing holding half of us together at this point? I can’t handle another trauma like Rika’s?_

**Jaehee: Nicky, I saw Seven** **’s messages earlier, I apologize that I couldn’t get in touch sooner.**

**Jaehee: Are you well?**

She waited, leaning against the wall. Her feet ached from standing in heels, the stress of the day making her more susceptible to fatigue. Sarah had stopped by Mr. Han’s office three separate times today, and it was only ten. She continued to insist that they were engaged, and that the Chairman had given her leave to see her fiancé. Jaehee was going to be run ragged trying to keep her out of Mr. Han’s hair. He had very nearly seen her as he left for a meeting, and Jaehee had only just gotten her out of sight as he had stepped onto the elevator. It gave her more to do, but she was doing her best to keep the problem from Mr. Han’s attention, because he had enough to worry about right now.

She could tell he was worried about Nicky, as well, and he didn’t need the hassle of an unwanted marriage adding to his burdens.

Her phone pinged, and she let out the breath that she had been holding, wishing that she could sink to the floor and give her shaking knees a break.

**Nicolette: Well, I** **’m not dead, so that’s something, right?**

She laughed in spite of her better judgment, chuckling even as she keyed her response.

**Jaehee: -_- don** **’t be so cavalier about that**

**Jaehee: What was the emergency?**

**Nicolette: You sure you want to know? I know you** **’re at work, I don’t want to bother you.**

**Jaehee: I** **’ve been tense about it all morning, so I would feel better if I knew**

**Nicolette: lol you really won** **’t**

**Nicolette: but if you insist~**

**Nicolette: Unknown payed a visit. He sort of crashed through the window.**

Jaehee tried, but she couldn’t seem to keep her jaw from hanging open. He had really gone there? The hacker had really come after her? She had known that it was a possibility, but the threat had always felt so distant, so…impossible.

**Jaehee: My god! Are you okay?**

**Nicolette: yes! ^^**

**Nicolette: Seven got here in time, Unknown is gone**

**Jaehee: so he ran away? Aren** **’t you afraid he’ll come back?**

**Nicolette:** **…**

**Nicolette: Well _NOW_ I am** **… >.>**

**Jaehee: I** **’m sorry, I’m not helping**

**Nicolette: lol no worries**

**Nicolette: I appreciate that you** **’re checking in.**

**Jaehee: Of course!**

**Jaehee: I may not show it very often**

**Jaehee: But I** **’ve become very fond of you.**

**Jaehee: I would hate to think of anything bad happening to you.**

**Nicolette: :p then who would let you gush about Zen?? ;)**

**Jaehee: >.<  we were having a moment, and you have to bring that up?**

**Nicolette: hey I** **’m injured, humor me here**

**Jaehee: You are??**

**Jaehee: Should I call someone? I** **’m certain Mr. Han will want to send someone over.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m fine. Don’t worry about it.**

**Jaehee: Are you certain? Where are you hurt?**

**Nicolette: It** **’s just some bruising and a few cuts. It’s nothing to trouble Jumin about.**

**Jaehee: -_-**

**Jaehee: I didn** **’t know it had been so tense.**

**Nicolette: you have no idea**

**Nicolette: distract me, I don** **’t want to think about it**

She bit her lip, wondering if she could press the matter further. Nicky had a way of putting on a brave face, and while Jaehee found it admirable, she also didn’t want her to feel like she needed to do so around her. She had really meant it when she said she had grown fond of her. Before Nicky had arrived, she had felt like she was relegated to the background of most of the RFA dealings. She had been a member, but she was still viewed as Mr. Han’s assistant, and therefore an outsider. Part of that had been her fault, because she kept her distance, thinking that it would be unprofessional to get close to Mr. Han’s friends. Somehow, Nicky had shown up and pulled things out of her that she hadn’t expected to share, and she no longer felt like she didn’t belong. She felt like she understood Yoosung and Luciel better, like Mr. Han was not as cold, like Zen was…

She felt herself start to blush and stopped the train of thought, clearing her throat as though she could swallow the rush of nerves that swept through her chest.

**Jaehee: Distraction? I could complain about work again, if it would help**

She sent the emoji of her face winking, little flowers popping up around her cartoon head.

**Jaehee: or if you prefer I could complain about that woman Sarah**

**Nicolette: the** **“fiance”? Is she still lurking about?**

Jaehee laughed out loud, feeling silly in the empty hallway, but she couldn’t help it. “Lurking” was such an accurate word for what Sarah was doing, and Jaehee had to appreciate that Nicky could perceive what was happening before she was even told of the situation.

**Jaehee: Indeed. I** **’ve kept her out of Mr. Han’s sights so far, but she is very persistent.**

**Nicolette: she** **’s the worst! Didn’t Jumin tell her he wasn’t interested?**

**Jaehee: Of course. The Chairman has had other ideas, however.**

**Nicolette: oh, that** **’s…**

**Nicolette: Is Jumin okay?**

**Jaehee: *sigh* I** **’m not sure. He’s been very tense lately, and it doesn’t look like things are getting any easier.**

**Jaehee: I** **’m worried about the strain on him.**

**Jaehee: although you shouldn** **’t trouble yourself**

**Jaehee: You have enough to worry about on your own**

**Nicolette: Nonsense! I have the capacity to worry about everything, trust me**

**Jaehee: -__-**

**Nicolette: lol**

She jumped as a head poked around the corner, but she calmed herself when she realized it was only Mr. Han.

“I apologize for startling you. I heard laughter.” His gaze was temperate, calm and collected, but she had known him long enough to see the concern underneath.

“I was just talking to Nicolette. She is well, by the way.”

“That’s good to hear. What was the emergency?” He walked around the corner, the ghost of a smile on his face.

Jaehee swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. “It was the hacker. He apparently showed up at the apartment.”

His eyes widened, and she noticed that he clenched his fist while he inhaled a deep, slow breath. “But she is well? She was not harmed?”

She very much wanted to lie to him, because she knew that the truth would not be welcome news. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to do it, because she respected him too much for that.

“She says she sustained some minor injuries, but has assured me that we shouldn’t worry.”

His jawline tightened, the muscles growing tense as he grit his teeth. His shoulders shifted back, such a subtle movement that most people wouldn’t notice. His head tilted towards the floor, just a bit, but it was enough to make his hair hang over his eyes.

“Mr. Han, how are you?” a man in a thousand-dollar suit stepped around the corner, and with that the moment was over. Jumin returned to the amiable and confident business man as he greeted the guest for his next meeting, the moment of vulnerability tucked away to never be considered again.

“Assistant Kang, please arrange to have the documents for the meeting delivered to my office immediately, if you have not already done so.” He was walking away, leading the other man towards the tinted glass doors to his office, where they would sit and discuss financial intricacies over drinks. Jaehee could tell that it was the very last thing that Mr. Han wanted to do, but he couldn’t avoid his obligations. Neither of them could.

**Jaehee: I have to go, work calls!**

**Jaehee: I** **’m so glad you’re safe.**

**Jaehee: please, take care!**

**Nicolette: Thanks, Jaehee. That** **…means a lot right now.**

Jaehee tucked her phone in her pocket and scurried after her boss, wondering if there had ever been a more perfect storm of stressful situations.


	21. It Never Got Easier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which suffering. So much suffering.

“You want us there today? That’s gonna cost extra.” The man on the line sounded bored, but Seven didn’t care as long as he did what he was promising.

“It’s fine.” He held the phone to his ear as he wandered back into the living room. His heart clenched the second he crossed the threshold in the hallway, his body tensing. It was impossible. It was impossible to be there with her and not look at her, and not think about her, not remember what she had felt like laying against his chest.

He tried not to see it, but every time he spoke to her he watched the pain flicker in her gaze, watched her sink further into shadows. That was all he could give to her. If he let her get close, if he did what he truly wanted to do, then he would drown her in the darkness of his life. He would get her killed, and he would make her miserable along the way. That was all that he was good for. Ruining lives.

_Saeran._

His brother’s eyes haunted him. Every time he blinked he could see them, full of hate and accusation. Every time he stole a glance across the room he could see where his fingers had marked bruises across Nicky’s arm. Bright splotches of purple and blue, expanding across her skin like dripping paint. His fault. All of it his fault.

Where were the happy endings? He had always known that he would never get one for himself, but Saeran…Saeran was supposed to have one. He was supposed to have gone on to live a happy, normal life. The man that had stood in the middle of the living room and threatened to burn the world had not had that. Nothing about him had been normal. What had he been through? What was he still going through?

“Sir?” Seven blinked, the world coming back into sharp focus as the man on the phone tried to talk to him.

“Yes, the quote is fine. When will you arrive?”

“We should be able to get there around two or so. If you can, try to have the area as clear as possible, it will make the process go quicker.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you.” Seven hung up the phone, letting his arm fall to his side, limp and lifeless. For a moment he allowed himself to stand there, lost, and he could feel her paying attention to him. He could feel her watching him without looking at him. He could feel her always, every second of every day, feel her like she was woven inside of him, part of his veins and nerves. He looked at his laptop, the screen still displaying a loading status as his programs ran decryption algorithms against the protections on the disk. It must have been pretty beefy, considering how long it was taking.  He should probably actually _do_ something about it if he wanted to get anywhere anytime soon. The automated protocols weren’t going to be able to handle it if that hadn’t already.

He looked at the chaos still strewn about the room and sighed. Even after quitting his job, he still had too much to do.

He glanced over at the couch, looking at her as she sat curled up on the cushion, elegant and graceful. She was answering emails on her phone, corresponding with the party guests. He knew because she always got that look on her face when she was focusing on planning everything. Her eyebrows would raise a fraction of an inch as she found the words she needed, a smile playing across her lips that was somehow shy and confident all at once. Sometimes she would take a strand of her hair and wrap it around her finger, twirling it as she read replies. He had alway imagined that she hummed while she worked, but right now she was silent, doing what he had asked without resentment. She should be furious, but instead she seemed patient, waiting beneath the onslaught of his frigid treatment because her faith in him was so unshakable. Still, after everything this morning, after half a day of desperation and disquiet, _still_ she trusted him.

He walked over, standing above her and trying not to see her. He held the broom out, his arm straight and stiff, a soldier submitting a gun for inspection.

“Sorry, but can you take over? I need to do some work on the computer and the window guys said they would be here soon.”

She looked up at him, biting her lower lip, and he unfocused his eyes so he wouldn’t see it anymore. Her blurry silhouette still shone through, and he felt like he was going to collapse.

“Um…sure.” She sounded hesitant, unsure, and when he looked at her carefully the smile that she was giving him seemed off. She took the broom, however, and so he turned his back to her, relieved to have her out of his line of sight, and started walking towards his computer.

He stopped in his tracks when she gasped in pain, a subdued whimper escaping her throat like the rattle of leaves across the wind-swept ground. He whirled around to see her leaning on the broom, half falling over, with her feet covered in not quite dried blood.

“God, what…?” he walked back to her side, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling her upright before she collapsed on the ground.

This time she was the one that avoided his gaze. “Sorry, it’s just a few scrapes. I’ll be fine, let me just go clean up…” she took a step, unwinding herself from around him, and her face contorted with pain as soon as her weight transferred to her foot. Her legs buckled and she started to fall, but he caught her, holding her up as she trembled from the effort. She glared at the floor. “Dammit.”

He picked her up, tucking his arm underneath her knees and lifting her onto the couch. He tried to be as still as possible as he did, tried to touch her as little as he could. He tried not to breathe her in, tried not to feel her skin and her pulse, tried not the listen to the sound of her gasp of surprise as it passed by her lips. Not because he didn’t want to, not because it didn’t light up his nerves like comets streaking across a star strewn sky. He tried not to because it felt like every time he did, every time he had to think about how much he wanted to feel her close to him, he died a little more inside. A great, pulsing black hole had opened up inside of him, swallowing bits and pieces of what was left of him, and every time he had to resist her another shard fell away, disappearing into the void of his need.

He stood, backing away from her, still feeling her warmth, still aching.

“Stay there.” He walked down the hall, counting his footsteps as he tried to calm down. He needed to stop. He needed to cut those parts of himself out and let the gravity of despair pull them away. He was a sentimental idiot, and look where it had gotten everyone. He yanked open the bathroom door, and paused in front of the sink before continuing. He looked in the mirror, and forced himself to consider the face of the world’s biggest fuck up.

His fist flew into the side of the tiled wall of its own accord, hard enough to bruise his fingers and make the ceramic rattle. _Dammit._ He was furious with himself. Furious that everything was his fault. Furious that he had been so preoccupied with not pining for her that he had failed to notice that she was even hurt. Some protector he had turned out to be. He’d sold out his future to buy one for his brother, and it turned out that he had gotten a shit deal. Worse, he’d been stupid enough, _sentimental_ enough, to believe the lies because of a handful of pretty pictures. Now he’d ripped out his roots and sold his life for Nicky, his actual death on the horizon because of the people that he had crossed to do it. All so she could sit bleeding on the couch while he treated her like shit, trying so hard to ignore her because it made it easier for him.

His fingers clenched around the edge of the sink, and he had to bite his tongue to hold in the hysterical sob rattling around in his throat. The first person he had ever tried to save had just burst throw a window to try and kill the second. Nicky could have been killed by Saeran. He could have thrown her out into the sky and then followed her down. He could have hit that red button and sent them all into oblivion.

All his fault.

If he had been better, if he had just thought to check up on him, just sought confirmation, then none of this would have happened. Saeran would have gotten his happy ending somewhere else, far away from whoever it was that had changed him so much. He would have never brought Nicky to this apartment. She would have never even met him, and lived a happy life without all the trouble he’d caused.

The idea of never having known her made him sick, and he doubled over, retching into the sink.

_God, why?_

When he had finished, feeling empty in a more literal sense in addition to the gaping chasm across his heart, he reached over and turned on the water, letting it rinse out the mess and warm at the same time. He pulled open the mirror, glad that he didn’t have to look at himself anymore, and started rummaging through the marbled shelves for supplies. He found a small silver basin and filled it with water, then loaded up his arms with antiseptic, bandages, gauze, and tweezers. Closing his eyes, he took in a breath, willing the air to fill him, willing the oxygen to work its way through his blood and into his brain.

When he felt like he could hold himself together again, he headed back out the living room, walking in to see her sitting right where he had left her. Her head was bowed, her shoulders curved inward, and her hair was falling in ruby waterfalls across either side of her face. It didn’t matter how strong his resolve, it never got easier to see her. Every time she was in his gaze it all felt like it would fall apart.

It _never_ got easier.

He walked over to the couch and knelt down in front of her, laying his supplies across the carpet. He didn’t look at her face, focusing instead on her feet. He lifted one in his hands, turning it with delicate ease so that he could examine the damage. There was a lot of blood, but the cuts didn’t seem to be particularly deep. The reason she had been in so much pain was that there were still a few shards of glass clinging to her skin, and every time she had tried to take another step she had been making new incisions. Why hadn’t she said something? Was she so scared after the attack that she couldn’t move?

Or was he so cruel that he had driven her to silence?

He grabbed some of the gauze that he had brought and soaked it in the warm water, his hands feeling cold from the freezing temperature in the room. It would improve when the window was repaired, but for now they had to deal with the dropping degrees and sudden gusts of wind. He should give her his jacket.

He clenched his jaw, ignoring the thoughts in his head, and set to work cleaning and treating her feet. The water turned pink and murky with each new pass of the gauze, the cuts opening once more as he tended to them. He could see her flinching, and he could see her trying to suppress it, trying to hold herself still even though she must be in pain. Once clean, he picked up the tweezers and removed the bits of glass, placing them in the basin of water where they made metallic plinks when they hit the bottom. He looked over his handwork, turning each foot this way and that, trying to ensure that he had gotten everything. Satisfied, he applied the antiseptic with a clean piece of gauze, then wrapped her feet in bandages.

She hadn’t made a sound the entire time. Not one whimper of pain. He glanced up at her face, her ankle in his palm, and just this once he met her gaze. She looked so broken, even while she was trying to be so brave. He could see so much in her big, beautiful eyes. Golden brown like the daylit autumn leaves, streaks of summer green radiating out from her dilated pupils like shooting stars. They were so expressive, and he could read her turmoil like an open book; her shattered nerves, her confusion, her worry for him as palpable as the ground beneath his feet.

He wanted to hold her so badly, to tell her that it would all be okay. He wanted to take her in his arms and promise that he would drag the moon from the sky if it would make her happy, that he would tear down all the stars if it meant she would smile.

 _Keep grinning at her like that, it_ _’s only going to get her killed._

He had to remember that he couldn’t. He couldn’t love her. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have her eyes open and staring, her lifeless corpse at his feet. He couldn’t live in a world where she didn’t exist. Loving her would end her, and he had to let her go.

However impossible she made that feel.

He picked up the supplies and stood, walking over to the counter to set them down. When he turned back she was standing, testing her weight by rolling back and forth along the length of each foot, careful and slow. Satisfied, and no longer crumbling in pain, she glanced up at him.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, tilting his eyes away so that he wasn’t meeting hers. Then he stood there, unsure of what to do, unsure of himself. It felt like he was waiting for the world to swallow him whole, for the ground to open up and drop him into an abyss. It felt like time itself had become his enemy, and every second was another punch in his gut.

She sighed, and he looked at her face involuntarily, drawn to her before he could control his body’s response. She smiled, a lopsided grin that killed him. “Go on,” she held up her hands and waved them at him, shooing him in the direction of his computer, “get to work. I can handle the sweeping.”

He nodded again, incapable of speech. If he opened his mouth too many things would come tumbling out, and he couldn’t control them. He turned away, rushing to his laptop and devoting himself to the work. As he typed, he tried to harden his heart and pretend he wasn’t dying slowly, breath by bitter breath, while the woman of his dreams was driven further and further away by his own hand.

***

The moment he got home he took his phone out, pulling up her face in his messages and typing before he had even removed his jacket.

**ZEN: You okay?**

There was a long pause before she answered, and he was starting to think that he would have to leave and start knocking on apartment doors until he found her before he finally saw the three little dots that let him know that she was typing.  He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she was at least able to answer, and he set his phone down while he removed his coat. He had been in turmoil all day wondering what had happened, and whether Seven had really gone there. He had only received a couple vague messages from Jaehee indicating that _something_ had happened, but she had been stingy with the details and too busy to stop and answer his questions begging for more.

 His phone beeped, and he walked back to the counter and leaned over to look at the screen while he slid his shoes off his feet.

**Nicolette: do you mean in a physical sense or emotional?**

 

His brow scrunched together as he looked at the question, picking up his phone and glaring at it as he wandered over to the couch. He flopped onto the flattened cushions, slumped so that he fit into the divot that he had managed to wear into the shabby leather by collapsing in the same way at the end of every day.

**ZEN: All of the above.**

**Nicolette: Well then I** **’m okay and also not even a little bit.**

**ZEN: What happened?**

**Nicolette: I can** **’t talk about it much**

 **Nicolette: it** **’s complicated**

**Nicolette: but Unknown busted in through the window**

**Nicolette: and tried to kidnap me**

**Nicolette: and Seven showed up**

**Nicolette: and everything is fucking awful**

**ZEN: ???**

He sat up, worry threading through his thoughts. In the time that he had known her, through all the weird things that she had gone through, he had never known her to _admit_ when she was unhappy. She was too bright for that, putting on the burdensome badge of the ever-cheerful party planner, even though he knew that she was full of it at least half of the time.

Things must be truly awful for her to state it so plainly.

**Nicolette: god, I don** **’t even know where to start**

 **Nicolette: I don** **’t even know why I’m telling you about it**

 **Nicolette: but I feel like I** **’m going to go insane if I don’t say something to someone**

**ZEN: Whoa, whoa**

**ZEN: Slow down, beautiful girl.**

**ZEN: You haven** **’t actually told me anything yet**

 **ZEN: Let** **’s start from the top, okay?**

**Nicolette: ugh!!!**

**Nicolette: there is no top, only bottom and then some more bottom**

**ZEN: Alright, first tell me: are you hurt? Physically, I mean?**

**ZEN: We can get to your meltdown in a minute**

**Nicolette: lol**

**Nicolette: right, coherency is important, sorry**

**Nicolette: I got a bit roughed up. Some bruises, and some cuts on my feet. Nothing to write home about.**

**ZEN: Glad to hear it isn** **’t worse.**

His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, wondering what he should say. What would a big brother say in this situation? So far he felt like he had been failing at that role, the one acting gig that he couldn’t figure out. Probably because his basis for comparison was so damn terrible. His own brother had failed him in so many ways, so why should he expect that he could take up the mantle with any real success? He had no idea what he was doing.

Maybe that was the answer, though. Maybe he could take everything that he had learned from his own family and do the opposite. Maybe the trick wasn’t knowing the nuance, but caring for the part. When he thought about it that way, and thought about what would make Nicky happy, it wasn’t so hard to know what he should say next.

**ZEN: He didn** **’t touch your face, though, right?**

**ZEN: I would weep eternally to hear such perfection had been disfigured!!!**

**Nicolette: lol I** **’m not you, remember?**

**Nicolette: No one would weep for my dumb face**

**ZEN: Hey now! I weep for your dumb face all the time**

**ZEN: Each day you deprive me of it, I shed more and more tears!!!**

**Nicolette: oh fuck off with all that poetry and sparkle lol**

**Nicolette: there are women swooning in the streets right now and they don** **’t even know why**

**ZEN: Ah, such a curse I have!**

**Nicolette: I** **’m rolling my eyes, in case you wanted to know.**

**ZEN: lol I would expect nothing less, my love**

**ZEN: Okay, so you** **’re gonna live, that’s step one.**

**ZEN: Step two: why is everything awful?**

**Nicolette: there are too many answers to that question**

**ZEN: Pick one.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sitting here in the bedroom while the repairmen are fixing the window**

 **Nicolette: and I know once they leave I** **’ll go back in the living room**

 **Nicolette: and have to sit there while he doesn** **’t look at me or talk to me**

**ZEN: Seven???**

**Nicolette: yep.**

**ZEN: What do you mean?**

**Nicolette: I mean that literally. He won** **’t look at me, he won’t talk to me**

**Nicolette: except to tell me to be quiet or stop looking at him**

**ZEN: !!!**

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. What could have happened to make Seven treat her like that? The man had thought she hung the stars a day ago, and now he wouldn’t look at her? Zen had never, ever seen Seven treat another person the way he had been treating Nicky. The way they joked, the way they practically finished each other's sentences in the chat. The pair of them were cut from the same weird, inscrutable cloth. She had proven to be something like a missing piece for all of them, rekindling and rejuvenating friendships that he had been starting to think had never existed in the first place. When Rika had died, everything had slowly fallen apart, the whole RFA group becoming meaningless and distant. Then Nicky came and just…in a week she had put them back together, perhaps better than they had been before. None of them more so than Seven, though. He seemed so much more alive when he was talking to her…Zen couldn’t imagine a single thing that could have happened to make Seven behave the way that Nicky described.

**ZEN: Has he said why?**

**Nicolette: no**

**Nicolette: dammit I** **’m gonna cry if I keep thinking about it**

 **Nicolette: I don** **’t know what I did**

**Nicolette: We had this moment right after he got here**

**Nicolette: and I was so happy to see him**

**Nicolette: and then it was like he shut down or turned into a statue**

**Nicolette: I feel so alone**

He wished, with all his heart, that he could be there to comfort her in person. He wished that he could march through the door and pick Seven up by the collar of his shirt, and shake him until he started making sense again. Instead he was stuck who knew how far away, his only connection to her through a phone. He wished V had called back and given them permission to go see her. Or called back to say _anything at all._

**ZEN: Hey, I want you to know**

**ZEN: No matter what**

**ZEN: As long as I** **’m alive you’re never alone**

There was another lull in the conversation, and he tried to imagine what she must be doing. Would she laugh at him? Would she brush it off? Was she buried under a pile of covers and trying to silence her tears? He had always pictured her laughing and smirking whenever they talked. He wasn’t sure he knew how to think about the shaken and frightened girl that he was talking to now.

**Nicolette: Thank you**

**Nicolette:** **…**

 **Nicolette: also shut up, you** **’re making me get all mushy for you**

He laughed, thinking that there was nothing in this world that could keep Nicky from finding a way to make a joke.

**ZEN: Mushy??? Am I finally winning you over, my lady?**

**Nicolette: OMG**

**Nicolette: DID**

**Nicolette: YOU**

**Nicolette: JUST**

**Nicolette: DID YOU JUST???**

**Nicolette: I can** **’t believe you just m’ladied me.**

 **Nicolette: I** **’m gonna buy you a fedora and make you wear it**

**ZEN: -_- m'lady isn't a verb**

**ZEN: And please don** **’t**

 **Nicolette: m** **’laddie**

**ZEN: Laddie? What are you, Irish?**

**Nicolette: I could be, you don** **’t know**

**Nicolette: but no lol**

**Nicolette: well, the window doesn** **’t have a hole in it anymore**

**Nicolette: time to return to my own personal nightmare**

**ZEN: D:**

**ZEN: You want me to come beat him up?**

**Nicolette: no you** **’d probably get glitter all over him or something**

 **ZEN: I** **’m not glittery!**

**Nicolette: whatever moonlight sparkle**

**Nicolette: I gotta go**

**Nicolette: but Zen?**

**Nicolette: thank you for listening.**

**Nicolette: <3**

And then she was gone. He tilted backwards until his head rested on the top of the couch, staring at the ceiling like it would hold some guidance, some kind of answer. He could joke with her, because he felt like that was what she needed, but in truth he was terrified. The idea that someone had come after her scared him. More than he had been scared in a long, long time. Hackers, V’s disappearance, Seven acting like he’d been body snatched and replaced with a robot. What had the world come to? What happened to the simple days, when all they wanted was to plan a damn party?

He thought about what it must have been like for her, to be in that apartment alone, to be attacked. He thought about what she said about how she felt now, and how she felt so alone.

Zen didn’t know anything about being a big brother. He didn’t know what it meant to be part of a family, or how to love her as the sister she had become to him. He _did_ know that he would never stop trying to do better, and that next time somebody thought about threatening Nicky they were going to have to deal with him first.

 _That_ _’s_ what big brothers were good for.


	22. It Was Never Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven shares some information.

She stared at the display on her phone, watching the bright white numbers in the corner sit unmoving.

5:58 pm.

It had only been a handful of hours since she had hopped out of bed and started making herself breakfast, but that world seemed eons away. She felt like someone had dropped her in a time machine, or launched her into space, and now she existed in a strange world where nothing made sense and everything hurt. 5:59 pm. Another minute, another venomous second poisoning the air around them. Silent, bitter, and repeating in a loop that didn’t seem to have an end.

She glanced at Seven, hunched over his computer, squinting at the lines on the screen. She didn’t understand what he was doing, but it looked very complicated. Complicated enough that he hadn’t moved much since he had started, the light from the computer reflecting off his glasses so that she couldn’t see his eyes. She could never see his eyes anymore.

She was surprised when he minimized the window that he had been looking at for the past three hours, switching over to something that she _could_ recognize as he opened the RFA chatroom.  She felt a stab of pain flash through her, more loneliness crashing down around her. He wouldn’t talk to her, but he was willing to hop on and chat with everyone else? She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand what had been happening to her since this morning. Nothing had made sense from the moment that window had shattered, and she desperately wanted to find the rhyme or the reason to the destruction of her world.

She smiled, but it was bitter and tainted. _Maybe destruction is all I_ _’m good for._ She opened the app and followed him into the chatroom, noticing his shoulders twitch when he saw her login announcement.

****

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: Nicky! Seven! You** **’re here~**

**ZEN: Hey gorgeous~~~**

**Jaehee: Good evening, both of you.**

**707: Hi**

**707: There are some things you should know**

**ZEN: ??**

**Yoosung: so serious -_-**

**707: This isn** **’t a joke.**

**Jaehee: Luciel, are you okay?**

**707: not important.**

**707: I need to apologize.**

**Yoosung: ?????**

Nicky glanced up from her phone, watching him carefully, but he was still turned away from her, his shoulders still hunched. His demeanor was still cold.

**707: I** **’m sorry that I didn’t explain before**

**707: and I** **’m sorry that I trusted V to take care of things**

**707: or that I trusted him at all.**

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: I** **’m here.**

**Jaehee: I told him he should come.**

**707: Good. Everyone should hear this.**

**ZEN: I** **’m sure V had good reasons for not showing up**

**ZEN: That** **’s what I want to believe**

**707: No.**

**707: You can** **’t trust him.**

**Jumin: What are you saying?**

**Jaehee: Luciel, coming from you that** **’s…quite surprising.**

**707: Just listen.**

**707: I** **’ll let you decide for yourselves if you want to trust him**

**707: But I can** **’t. Not ever again.**

**Yoosung:** **…**

**Nicolette: let him talk.**

She saw him tense, felt his eyes shift towards her even as he kept his head perfectly still. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, or sad, or if he was anything at all anymore. He was a statue, a stone image of the man that she had known.

**707: When I left this morning it was because I found out that the hacker had been messing with the failsafe at Rika** **’s apartment.**

**707: You wouldn** **’t know about it, because V and Rika requested that we keep it a secret.**

**Jumin: What was the failsafe?**

**707: A bomb.**

She sucked in a breath, unable to keep it silent in her shock. She had assumed that the hacker had been the one to do something. She had known that the red button he had held in his hands was bad news, but she thought it was something that he had brought with him. She had been living on top of a bomb for a _week,_ and neither V or Seven had thought to tell her. Seven flinched from where he sat, hanging his head. She watched him, and she could feel his guilt and shame, and she couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him. He had done what he thought he needed to, at the behest of his friend. His greatest fault was that he had been loyal. Even though he hadn’t told her about it, she knew that he had worked himself nearly to death trying to keep her safe. He had done his best, with the information that he had, and she could never resent him for that.

V, however, was another matter entirely. Why had he done it? Why would anyone in their right minds want a bomb placed in their apartment? If he had loved Rika, he should have never agreed to such a drastic measure. She couldn’t imagine allowing anyone that she loved to live with that kind of threat. After her death, why hadn’t V removed it? Why had he thought it was okay to leave a live bomb in an empty apartment? Was the information that important? Just who had Rika been, and why had she been so obsessed with secrecy that her paranoia still infected the RFA to this day?

**ZEN: WHAT**

**Jaehee: Oh my god!**

**Yoosung: no way, there** **’s no way Rika wanted that**

**707: I know. I know how you feel.**

**707: I never wanted to put it in.**

**707: But she insisted.**

**Jumin: So you knew about it before.**

**707: Yes. I helped install it.**

**Jumin: You knew about it, and you still let Nicolette stay there?**

**Jumin: You let her live on top of an explosive while somebody tried to hack into the system?**

**707: I** **’m sorry.**

**ZEN: That** **’s not good enough!!!**

**ZEN: Did you care? Even when we didn** **’t really know her yet, you should have cared that she was in that much danger!**

**ZEN: And even after, you let her stay?**

**707: I** **’m sorry.**

**Jumin: You disgust me.**

**Nicolette: Stop it. Immediately.**

She had to blink back tears so that she could see what she was typing, but she couldn’t sit by and watch them scream at each other.

**Nicolette: Seven busted his ass to make sure that nothing happened to me.**

**Nicolette: Stop blaming him for this, it isn** **’t his fault.**

He made a noise from across the room, a small sound that was strangled as it tried to work its way through his clenched jaw. His hand was curled in a fist as it rested next to the keyboard, his knuckles white. She wanted to run to him, to take his hand and unwind his fingers, holding him until he stopped shaking. He still wasn’t looking at her, so she stayed rooted to the spot, praying for things to change, praying for normalcy to return.

**Yoosung: she** **’s right**

**Yoosung: this is all V** **’s fault**

**Yoosung: He was the one who made Seven keep it a secret.**

**ZEN: Why would V do this?**

**707: Rika wanted to make sure that if anyone ever got into the apartment**

**707: all of the confidential information would be safe.**

**707: she thought that destroying it was the only way to be sure.**

**707: You should also know that when Nicky first arrived**

**707: V wanted me to detonate the bomb immediately.**

**Yoosung: NO!**

**ZEN: That** **’s not…he would never…**

**Jaehee: He really** **…?**

**Jumin: I don** **’t understand.**

**Jumin: Why would he do this? How could he allow this?**

**Nicolette: You told him no.**

**Nicolette: You protected me even then.**

She heard him make that sound again, his head hanging lower, his hair covering most of his face. She would do anything to make him look at her again. Anything. If he wouldn’t talk to her, maybe he would listen to her words in the chat. Maybe they would get through when all else had failed. It had been where they met, where they came to know each other. Maybe it was her only way to get through to him.

**ZEN: OF COURSE HE DID**

**ZEN: ANY SANE PERSON WOULD HAVE**

**Jumin:** **…**

**ZEN: I can** **’t believe this. I can’t believe this at all.**

**ZEN: We could have** **…Nicky could have…**

**Yoosung: we wouldn** **’t have even gotten to know her**

**Jaehee: I** **’m very surprised by this, as well.**

**ZEN: I can** **’t take this. I can’t handle this, it’s too much. V…**

**707: There** **’s one other thing.**

**707: I don** **’t think V has been truthful with any of us.**

**707: There are things in this apartment that connect Rika to the hacker.**

**707: And I believe that V knew they were here.**

**707: Which is how he knew Nicky was in danger, and why he wanted to get rid of her as fast as possible.**

**Jumin: This is unimaginable.**

**707: I know.**

**707: The device is completely disabled now, and I** **’ll remove it as soon as I can.**

**707: I** **’m sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner.**

**707: but I thought that you should know. Don** **’t ever trust V.**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

He pushed off the stool that he had been sitting on, walking around the counter and into the kitchen, his face frozen in a mask that was devoid of emotion. She set her phone down, unable to care about the chat, unable to care about anything other than the dead weight in his eyes as he opened the fridge, taking food out with mechanical movements.

“Did you find anything on the disk?” she kept her voice low, as though if she spoke too loudly or too quickly he would startle and run away. She felt like he was closer, like he wasn’t quite so far away. She felt like she could almost feel him underneath all the darkness that followed him like a cloud. She could almost see his light again.

“It had all the information for all the guests that attended the parties.” He pulled out a cutting board and a knife, stacking vegetables next to the sink before he turned on the faucet.

She tapped her fingers against her knee. “Why would Unknown want that?”

“ _Don_ _’t call him that.”_ Seven snapped the words at her, and she looked up in surprise. For a moment the world stood still as they looked at each other, and the overwhelming pain in his eyes made her want to crumble to dust. Within him she saw despair, and anger, and a desperation that called out to her ceaselessly. She was helpless against it, helpless to keep herself from caring, from wanting to find the parts of his heart that were broken and mend them back together, holding them with her own two hands for all eternity if she had to.

“I’m sorry.” She held his gaze, praying that she could keep it. “How…how did you know him?”

Then it was gone, over, and he looked away. She was invisible again, fading into the nothing that was eating away at her sanity.

“None of your business.”

Her eyes felt like they were on fire, her mind spinning in circles that led lazy paths into darkness, leisurely strolls into lonely despair. Every time he spoke to her like that another knife was plunged in her heart, and she couldn’t survive much longer. She had to fight, she had to do something, to find the shreds of whatever had been between them and figure out a way to sew them back together.

“What do you need me to say? What can I do to help you?” she hated the need that wavered in her own words, but she couldn’t hide it. Her wish to help was naked against her chest, raw and open as her emotions hung at the edges of her sleeves.

“If you really want to help then just leave me alone.” The knife sliced through the vegetables and clapped against the cutting board, punctuating his words. A slow, rhythmic march across his cold shut down.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe, but it wasn’t enough, and she clamped her hand down on her mouth to muffle the sob. She willed herself not to cry, put all her strength into drying her eyes by determination alone. It was not enough, it was never enough, and a lone tear welled out and over her cheek, dropping onto her thigh and staining her jeans.

Maybe Unknown…no, _Saeran,_ maybe he had been right. Maybe she was alone, and maybe she always would be.

***

He flicked the switch to shut the stove off, pouring some of the stir fry onto the plate. He’d made too much, so he left some of it in the pan. He stared at the plate as steam rose off the tops of the vegetables, letting his gaze lose his focus as his mind drifted through the numbness he was trying to enforce on himself. Now that he was done cooking, he felt empty again, nothing to distract him from the horrible guilt taking over his heart.

He picked the plate up off the counter, keeping his eyes on his feet as he walked across the room. She looked up at his approach, but he didn’t look back, even though every fiber of his being was aware that she was watching him. He thrust the plate towards her, his head down.

“What -”

He pushed it closer to her face, startling her out of the rest of her sentence. She took the food from him, blinking in surprise. He didn’t wait for a response, but turned and walked back over to his computer, sliding his headphones on over his ears. He didn’t turn on any music, because it just reminded him of her, so he let the thick foam in the speakers muffle the world around him to silence. He pulled his keyboard closer and clicked through the search programs, some of them finally yielding results. He had been able to use some of the information on the disk to match the encryption methods, and then used that to trace similar patterns. It had taken the better part of the day, but he was finally getting hits, and had a location.

Everything he had found reeked of the same hacking styles that Saeran had used, so he knew that he was chasing his brother’s trail. _I will find you again. I will find you and this time I_ _’ll make sure that you’re safe._

He typed a few more commands in the programs and set them to run. White metal shimmered at him from the counter, and he picked up the chassis from the half-finished project, poking at the screws with his tools. He’d finished with the circuitry inside, now it was just a matter of assembling the separate pieces and installing a power source. He’d opted for a real pink ribbon, instead of a manufactured one. It seemed more fitting.

What was the point? All of it was pointless. He didn’t even know why he was still working on it. _Sentimental idiot._

He stole a peek at the couch, and her eyes found his once more. She wasn’t eating, just holding the food and watching him. He pulled his headphones off and settled them back around his neck.

“Stop staring and eat.”

She gazed at him for a long time, holding her chin up like the stubborn girl that she was, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream at her or kiss her.

“You first.”

“I’m not hungry.” He glared at her, wishing that there was a magic word that he could say to make this easier, to make her understand that she needed to forget about him, that she needed to take all that worry that she had for everyone else and put it back on herself. _She_ was the one that needed to be okay, and the more she struggled to get close with him the worse off she would be. Why couldn’t she just let him push her away? Why didn’t she see him for the worthless waste of space that he was?

Her eyebrow twitched upward. “Neither am I.”

He sighed, getting up from his seat and stomping into the kitchen. “You’re impossible.” He scooped out what was left of the food onto another plate and took it with him to sit back down. He took a bite, tossing an angry glance at her over his shoulder. “Happy?”

She didn’t say anything, but she did start eating, so he turned back away from her and put the headphones back around his ears. He ate the food in front of him, but he couldn’t taste anything through his misery. It was all ash and acid sticking to the back of his tongue, the world losing flavor and color until everything was a steady, murky grey. That was his life now.

A few days of lonely grey and then a final, inevitable end. But Saeran and Nicky would live on, and that was the only thing that mattered.


	23. Please Hate Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which FEELINGS.

Her eyelids felt like they were weighed down by bricks. Every time she blinked it took another wave of tremendous effort to open them again, but she kept doing it. She wanted to stay awake with him, to be there in case he showed any signs that he hadn’t become encased in stone. If he came back, from wherever he was, she wanted to be there when he did.

Her head bobbed forward and she jerked herself awake, blinking her eyes wider in the hopes that the chilly air would fight off sleep for another few minutes. She tapped the power button on her phone, making the screen light up and creating a circle of glowing blue around her hands. 1:04 am. So, it was the next day. The longest day of her life was over, and yet the misery continued.

“You should go to bed.” His voice, his words, they would be the death of her. They were hard, and sharp, slicing into her vulnerabilities with needlepoint accuracy.

Part of her wanted to listen. She was so tired. Her wrist ached where the bruises had settled into her bones, her feet throbbed beneath the layers of bandages. Her heart was weighed down with solid stone, creeping over her life until the whole world was dead and still, sinking to the bottom of a sea of unshed tears. Still, if she went to bed…if she went to bed, she might wake up and never see him again. She might wake up and find that he had turned to solid ice, and she would never see him smile, never see him laugh. If she lost him completely…as much as they hurt, as much as it stung like the nettle of a thousand thorns, she would also miss his glares. His anger, his sadness. He was so far away, so that all she could see was the pain, but still it was a part of him. As long as she had not lost him completely…

She cleared her throat while she tried to clear the fatigued, addled thoughts from her head. “Are you planning on sleeping at all?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” She had meant it to sound scolding, but it came out as a plea. He met it with a glowering frown, his eyes still not quite meeting hers.

“Go to bed.” He clipped the words through a clenched jaw, turning away from her so that she couldn’t see his face.

It was like a spark, thrown against the kindling of her delirium, tossed into the dry woods of her starving heart. She was angry. Angry that he wasn’t talking to her, angry that he was so lifeless, angry that she couldn’t seem to do anything right.

“And if I don’t?” she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her lips from trembling, focusing on the physical pain so that she could block out the writhing blackness in the center of her mind.

Nothing. He didn’t even have the decency to glare.

“Fine. Do what you want.” He picked up the white metal case that he had been fidgeting with all day, turning it over in his hands while he hunched his shoulders.

The dam broke. The walls that she had been building all day crumbled to dust, and she could not contain the flood any longer. Tears sprang to her eyes and she couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand for him to see it, and so she stood and rushed back into the bedroom. She threw herself onto the bed, shoving her face into a pillow to muffle the sobs that came unbidden to her lips. She shook, great heaving breaths wracking her body, quakes of sorrow trembling through her bones.

_God, I_ _’m so alone…_

She didn’t often pray anymore. She had never been particularly faithful, but she had lost what little she had when she had learned the price of telling the truth. God had not seemed to be there for her then, and while she couldn’t quite bring herself to harbor ill will, she didn’t find it worth the effort to pray. Why bother someone when they were obviously too busy to pay attention to her? She was a speck of dust against the white grained sands of time, and her voice was small and feeble against the tides rushing in and out to move and shake the world. There was no point in shouting if she couldn’t be heard.

Except now. Now she opened her heart and let the poison from the day seep out, her fingers curling in the sheets and her tears soaking the pillows. Now she prayed for an end, for an explanation. She prayed that she could understand what she had done, or what she could do. She prayed that she would wake up in the morning and he would tell her what was wrong. That he would call her an idiot again and pull her into his arms. She prayed so that she could understand him, and to understand what she needed to do to help. All she wanted to do, even if it killed her, was to take the shadows out of his gaze.

All she wanted to do was love him.

She fell asleep with his name on her lips, a prayer that she couldn’t let go of. A heart that she couldn’t mend.

Perhaps tomorrow she could finally understand.

***

It was late. Or perhaps it was early. Jumin was not often awake at such times, so he had not considered the duality of the midnight hours. Now he found himself sitting on his sofa at two in the morning, a drink in hand that he hadn’t tasted since he had poured it.

A bomb. What a reckless solution. If there had been problems with security, surely there were better methods for protecting the information. Burning everything to the ground seemed like a child’s idea, kicking over the sand castle rather than risking someone else coming to play. He couldn’t imagine what type of person would find that acceptable.

Yet the people that had made the decision were the people that he had thought he knew the most. He had known V longer than any of them, and still he had not foreseen this turn of events. V had always been a visionary, always looking at the world in a different way. If he were honest with himself, Jumin knew that he had never understood V’s way of looking at things, not with any true comprehension. He was always so positive, always able to look for the silver lining in the ominous storm, to see the beauty in the black between the stars. That had changed when Rika had died, but Jumin hadn’t spoken of it. He wanted to let his friend grieve in whatever way suited him. He wasn’t knowledgeable enough in that area to be able to reach out and help. His methods were repression, stamping down everything he felt until it fit in a neat little package at the back of his mind. V was supposed to be above such simple techniques, and Jumin had waited for him to find his own way, to break through his mourning and come back to them.

He hadn’t.

V, his father. V had wanted to kill someone rather than risk an information leak. His father spoke to him daily about marrying a woman that he detested, wishing to benefit the company at the cost of his son’s happiness. The people in this world that he had thought closest to him were behaving in unexpected ways. Did he truly know anyone? Or had he been fooling himself, tricking himself into thinking that he had friends, that he had a relationship with at least one parent. He had always told himself that those two things were enough, that if he had his father and V then he didn’t need to be overly social, that he didn’t need to get close to other people in the world and risk all the complications that could bring.

Everything was secrets and lies. Dishonesty had pervaded his life when he wasn’t looking, and now he was left to wonder how deep the roots had reached. How entangled was he? Worse still, what could have happened because of his blind trust? Nicolette had been living on top of a bomb, and he never would have known.

_Nicolette._

She was the one anomaly, even before the world had turned sideways. She made him feel more at ease, even when the others were around. To think that she could have been harmed because of the actions of his best friend…it was unconscionable. She was an innocent, one of the few people in the world truly deserving of that word, and V would have killed her without ever having known her. He would have snuffed out her light like the wick of a candle, leaving only smoke and ash behind. There would have been no party planning, there would have been no laughter in the chatroom again, there would have been no one to ease his mind when his thoughts had become too chaotic. That had been V’s wish.

Would he have told them? Would he have told them that he had blown her up, or would they have been fed a story? Perhaps she had just run away, gotten scared and fled the strange situation, never to return. Perhaps she would have been painted the villain, a thief who had deserved whatever came to her, running from the scene of her petty crime. Jumin would have believed the lie if it had come from V. He would have believed anything V told him…though not anymore. His trust was broken, shattered and swept under the rug with the rest of the things he did not like to face in the light of day. No one was dependable, it seemed. Jumin knew now, with certainty, that he could no longer trust anyone.

Not ever again.

***

She had left the light on.

Originally that was why he had gotten out of his chair and wandered back to the room. She had left the lamp glowing next to the bed, and he was just going to turn it off so it didn’t disturb her sleep. That was all.

Now he stood in the door, staring at her, the warm yellow shine from the lamp casting long shadows across her face. She had curled herself around a pillow, clutching it to her chest. The covers were strewn at her feet, part of the sheets wrapped around her legs. She hadn’t even changed out of her clothes, but fallen into bed and given in to exhaustion as she was when she had fled the living room.

When he had tried not to see the tears as they ran down her face.

She was beautiful. Breathtaking. She was everything to him, and she was so far away. He had put her there, pushing her as hard as he could, but it still hurt to see her go. It was what he deserved, but that didn’t make it less painful. He’d resigned himself to it, though. It would be there with him until the end, the one certainty that remained to him.

He walked into the room, standing at the edge of the bed. Her breathing was even, her expression serene. He wondered if she was dreaming, and if those dreams brought her more joy than she had been able to find all day.

His fault.

He lifted the covers at the foot of the bed, shaking them out and laying them over her. She didn’t stir, so exhausted that her sleep was deep enough to cut her off from this world completely. He was glad. He hoped that wherever she went in her mind it was better than what she had been stuck with here. Better than anything he could ever give her.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for how I’ve hurt you.” The words started slipping from him before he could control them, before he even knew what he was saying. He had repressed everything all day, all his terror, all his despair. Now, as she slumbered, a fallen angel of peace, he couldn’t help but bare his heart. He could never do so when she was awake, but while sleeping it could do no harm, and the emotions took their chance, rushing out of him in a torrential flood. 

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through. I’m sorry that I ever let you become friends with me, because I knew from the very beginning that you deserved better.” He placed his fingers on the bed, tracing soft circles in the wrinkled cotton. “I love you, but I can only ever bring you darkness. You wouldn’t understand, because you’ve never seen the real me…but I would make you miserable. I would make you miserable and get you killed…and I can’t handle that. I need you to live. I need to know that you are in this world, even after I’m gone.” _Gone._ He would have to leave soon. He would have to leave all of them. He would go find Saeran and set things right, and then he would disappear from the world. He would stand in front of the firing squad and let the agency take their shot, his arms wide open to welcome the end.  It wouldn’t be much longer, and then it would all be over.

“I’m going to have to keep hurting you…I have to keep you away, because if I let you in then I’ll ruin you. I ruin everything that I touch…and before I met you I don’t think I cared. But now…I don’t want to ruin you. I want you to stay exactly as you are. You’re perfect, and I could never be good enough for you. So please…when you wake up, please hate me. Please look at me and be disgusted with what I am, please look at me and wish I didn’t exist. It will be easier for you, that way.”

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wondering if any part of her could hear him. Would she dream of another world, one where he was better? Would she dream of a world where none of this had ever happened, and she had never met him? She would be so much happier that way.

Tears sprang from his eyes, running down his cheeks. “I’ll never forget you, and all the times you made me feel like there was light in the world. I’ll never forget what it felt like to love you, not for as long as I live. Even after that, I think part of me will always be with you, and I’ll always love you. I hope that it helps you find happiness someday. I love you, Nicky. Forever.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, because it was the last time that he would ever let himself love her, the last time he would get to be the way that he wanted to with her, to be himself and speak the truth. Tomorrow the sun would rise and the cycle would continue, and she would drift further away.

He reached over and turned out the light, flooding the room in darkness. He returned to the living room, throwing himself on the couch and flipping onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, and thought that it would be so much easier after he was dead. It would be so much easier for the world to be bright when he stopped being a part of it. For Nicky, for Saeran. He was glad that he was being given the chance to make that sacrifice. He was glad that he could do something about it before his demise arrived.

Despite everything, despite the fact that it was selfish, despite the pain that he would cause everyone, he was glad that he had loved them.


	24. A Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven tells a lie.

She didn’t want to leave the bedroom, but she knew that she would have to at some point. She was afraid that when she walked out the apartment would be empty, that he had left in the middle of the night to disappear forever. She had been plagued with nightmares that she would wake up to find him dead, stone cold on the floor with a bullet in his head. She had barely been able to muffle her screams when she awoke, covered in sweat and shivering. She’d curled into a ball under the covers and wept quietly while she tried to recover, tried not to think about the blood dripping down his frozen face. Eventually the terror had subsided enough for her to get out of bed and put on a fresh set of clothes, though she couldn’t quite shake the lingering unease as she prepared to face the day. She had opted for shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt, even though it was chilly. The cold on her legs felt bracing, numbing, and she was glad for it.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever she would find, promising herself that his eyes wouldn’t be open and gaping, that she wouldn’t find him already gone. Her steps were timid, but she took them one at a time, and made her way out into the living room.

She nearly burst into tears when she saw him seated at the counter, hunched over his computer. He looked miserable, and there were dark circles under his eyes that stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin. He didn’t look at her when she entered, but remained blinking at his screen with forlorn determination.

Her relief was short lived as she remembered what it had felt like to sit with him all day yesterday, having him be there but so far away at the same time. She tried to ignore the crack in her heart growing deeper and wider. Instead of focusing on it, she walked to the fridge and pulled out a handful of ingredients, busying herself with making breakfast. Eating was the absolute last thing that she wanted to do, her stomach still rolling from the effects of her nightmare, but if she cooked something and tried to choke it down perhaps he would eat as well.

Everything she did sounded louder than it needed to be. Every crinkle of a wrapper, the crack of an eggshell, the ring of the metal pan hitting the stove top. It all had echoes, loud, resounding sound waves rushing out from the source and filling the room. The silence between them was so acute that everything else seemed louder in comparison. As she cooked, her mind wandered, memories flooding the empty halls until she was filled with them.

_I want you to be healthy._ She had rolled her eyes when he had said it over the phone, smiling like an idiot.

_Yes, sir. I promise I_ _’ll eat dinner._

_Well, actually_ _…I was just sitting down to eat, too, so I thought…I mean, I can’t be there with you, but we can still eat together._

She blinked her tears away. That had been a lifetime ago, a thousand years ago. It was another world, far, far away from the cold and lonely place she lived in now. What had happened? What had she done? Now they could eat together, but he didn’t want to. He was right there, just a few feet away, but he didn’t see her. She was a ghost lurking in his footsteps, trying to remind him of a past that was so brief. She had lived in a fantasy world for a few days, and now that had all ended. She should have known.

She finished cooking and switched the burner off, putting the food onto two separate plates. She walked around the counter and held one of them out to him, a smile plastered to her face that she struggled to hold in place.

“I’m not hungry.” He didn’t even remove his headphones.

“You should still eat. I…I want you to be healthy.” She echoed his words, wondering if it would make a difference, wondering if he even remembered that night so long ago.

He turned away from her. “I said I’m not hungry.”

She slammed the plate down on the counter next to him, making the glass rattle and shake the different parts that littered the area. Then she took her own plate and stalked off back into the bedroom, wiping her tears away with shaking hands. She couldn’t handle his animosity for another day. She couldn’t face it. Not after yesterday, not after the nightmares, not after the crack in her heart felt like it was full of sorrow and weeping.  She set the plate of food down on the table next to the bed, completely uninterested in trying to eat anymore. She laid down and stared at the ceiling, willing her heart to stop beating so fast, willing her thoughts to stop racing in circles of self-recrimination and despair.

After she felt sufficiently numb she reached down and fished her phone out of her pocket, opening the RFA app. She needed to log in and see if she still existed, or if she had disappeared at some point in the last day, evaporating into broken mist.

****

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: OH, a pretty lady is among us!!~**

**Jumin: Good morning, Nicolette.**

**Nicolette: Hey boys, how** **’s it going?**

She scrolled up through the messages, smiling as she looked over their conversation from before she had arrived. They had been bickering again, as they always did. It was good to see some things in the world hadn’t changed.

**ZEN: Trustfund here was just about to admit his complete wrongness, you have good timing.**

**Jumin: I was going to do no such thing.**

**Jumin: Cat golf is a perfectly legitimate business.**

**ZEN: You** **’re hopeless.**

**Jumin: You wouldn** **’t understand.**

**Nicolette: haha I would totally go golfing with a cat**

**Jumin: See? Those with refined taste can appreciate it.**

**ZEN: Whatever**

**ZEN: How are you this morning, babe?**

**Jumin: I** **’m not your babe, please never call me that again.**

**ZEN: UGH!!!**

**ZEN: I wasn** **’t talking to you, you stupid jerk!!!**

She almost laughed, but there wasn’t enough light left in her for that, so all that emerged was a tremulous smile.

**Nicolette: lol I** **’m gonna tell Jaehee to start planning your wedding**

**Nicolette: you** **’ll make such a cute couple**

**ZEN: T_T Betrayed** **…betrayed from all sides.**

**Jumin: I hope it made you laugh, Nicolette.**

**Nicolette: lol of course.**

**Jumin: How are things there? Is everything secure?**

**Nicolette: oh yeah, safe and sound. Window got repaired, it** **’s all peachy-keen**

**ZEN: really?**

**ZEN: So things got better?**

She wished that she could tell them that they had. She wished that she could tell them that everything had worked out, and that things would return to normal soon. She wished that she could lie, but she couldn’t bring herself to type the words.

**Nicolette: oh, no, not at all, that** **’s still terrible**

**Jumin: ?**

**ZEN: Seven has been acting strange.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sure he’s just stressed.**

**Jumin: He is under a lot of pressure**

**Jumin: I** **’m sorry that you’ve been put in this position.**

**Nicolette: It** **’s fine. It’s not anybody’s fault.**

**ZEN: No, it** **’s definitely** ** somebody ** ** ’s ** **fault, I** **’m just not sure who to blame.**

**Jumin: Has Seven uncovered anything else about the hacker that led you there?**

**Nicolette: Not that I** **’m aware of.**

**Nicolette: You would probably be better off asking him yourself.**

**ZEN: :(**

**ZEN: This is just not right. You two having problems doesn** **’t make any sense!!!**

**Nicolette: it** **’s…I’ll live.**

She sighed, feeling heavier than she had when the conversation had started.

**Nicolette: Listen, I know things are strange for everyone right now**

**Nicolette: But I trust that Seven has reasons for everything he** **’s doing**

**Nicolette: And whatever they are, he will share them when he** **’s ready.**

**ZEN: You have a lot of faith in him.**

**Nicolette: Of course I do.**

**Nicolette: I always will.**

**Nicolette: *sigh* I should probably get going, I have some emails to answer from the party guests.**

**ZEN: YOU** **’RE STILL PLANNING THE PARTY?**

**ZEN: WE ALMOST BLEW YOU UP**

**Jumin: The narcissist has a point. You should not trouble yourself with something like that when things are already so difficult for you.**

**Nicolette: Hey, that** **’s why you guys kept me around, right?**

**Jumin: No.**

**ZEN: Of course not! We kept you around because we care about you.**

**Jumin: I agree.**

**Nicolette: Thank you. Both of you.**

**Nicolette: I still want to do my best to plan the party, though. It** **’s the only way that I feel like I can pay you back for all you’ve done for me.**

**Jumin: You** **’ve been in danger from the moment you met us. We should be making it up to you, not the other way around.**

**Nicolette: You already do, just by being yourselves.**

**Nicolette: I really should go, though.**

**Nicolette: Have a good afternoon, and try not to bicker too much!!**

**_Nicolette has left the chatroom._ **

 

She tossed her phone on the bed, throwing her arm over her eyes so that the tears in them wouldn’t fall. Their words were touching, and she wanted to believe them, but she couldn’t. Perhaps they could only feel that way because they hadn’t met her in person. Perhaps she had a presence that made friendships shatter, over and over again. Maybe that was what happened between her and Seven. Maybe he had held her and felt like he was holding something wrong, something tainted, something used. Perhaps she couldn’t hide what she was, perhaps she couldn’t have a fresh start. Perhaps she had fallen out the window yesterday, after all, dying in a spatter of gore, and that all the time since had been her journey into hell.

The clock on the night stand told her that it was getting close to noon. Her plate of food was cold and untouched. She wondered if Seven had eaten his. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, every inch of her weary, every inch exhausted beyond the point of reason. She looked at her arm, her hand resting against the bed, purple and blue dotting her wrist in the shape of fingers that had wanted to take her to paradise. He had known that she was alone. He had known and offered to save her. She had seen madness in his eyes, and pain, but beneath that…beneath that was the wide blue skies, the song of freedom. Maybe she should have let him destroy her. Maybe it would have been easier that way.

She stood, picking up the plate and walking into the kitchen where she set it on the counter. Seven’s plate remained untouched, and he sat with his back to her, the white metal object in his hands again while his screen filled with numbers cascading over a map. She watched his fingers move over the smooth surface, watched the ease with which he lifted a tiny screwdriver and locked a screw into place. It was beginning to look like he was attaching jointed legs to it, and there was another piece that could have been a head of some kind lying next to a strip of pink ribbon.

She gasped, realizing what it was, her hand clutching the base of her throat as hope flooded through her anew.

“Is that…is that the one we talked about?” she took a step closer to him, a hand half extended, as though if she just reached out she could bridge the gap. “Ellie 2.0?”

He froze, his fingers halting their work, his shoulders going stiff and still. “It’s…it’s not…”

“You made it. You really made it.” She took another step towards him, every part of her yearning to close the distance, yearning to hug him and feel his heartbeat again.

“No. This is just garbage.” He stood, stalking around the counter with the little cat robot in hand. He yanked out the trashcan and threw it inside, and the sound of crunching metal echoed around the room. He was looking at her, and his eyes were so hollow, so empty. She could take no more.

“Why are you doing this? What did I do?!”

He dropped the trashcan, stomping over until he was in front of her. “Can’t you understand that I just want you to leave me alone?”

She recoiled from the anger, but kept her feet planted in the same place. “Why?! What happened? I thought…I felt…”

“Just stop thinking it and stop feeling it. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to be friends with you. Once this is done, I’m going to disappear, and I don’t want you to try and contact me ever again.” His voice broke over the words, angry and bitter, cresting waves of turmoil that swallowed her whole.

“Why?!” she grabbed the edges of his jacket, trying to physically keep him in the moment, trying to force him to stand there and explain to her what was wrong. “Please just tell me what I did?”

***

“I know what happened. Why you were out of school. So I don’t want to be anything with you anymore.” He kept his voice low and even as he spoke, making sure the words came out loud and clear.

It was a lie. An awful, terrible lie…but if it meant that she would hate him, then he would tell it.

She let go of his jacket, stumbling backwards. Her pupils dilated, her eyes growing wider than he had ever seen them, abject horror swimming in the pretty hazel. The expression she made killed him, more thoroughly than his escape from the agency, more thoroughly than seeing his brother trying to kill the woman that he loved. She broke, right before him, parts of her crumbling as her fingers clutched at her chest, knuckles white and shaking. He didn’t know what she had done, and he never would, because it didn’t matter…but whatever it was, his words about it had torn her apart.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry that I disappointed you.” Her voice was faded, shaking, tortured. She took a step back, destroyed.

He turned away from her, because if he looked at her any longer he was going to break. He would break and take everything back, his resolve turning to dust. He would grab her and tell her that she was perfect, that she was the greatest person that he had ever met, that all of this was his fault. He wanted to tell her that she could never, _ever_ be a disappointment to him.

She took off, running out of the apartment and leaving the door swinging, the sound of her sobs drifting through the opening in her wake.

He didn’t go after her. He didn’t deserve to go after her. He didn’t deserve to comfort her for the pain that he had inflicted upon her. He didn’t deserve to be anywhere near her. The safest place for her was wherever he wasn’t, and he hoped that she got as far away from him as possible. Even if she returned, he would be gone by the time she got back. Today he would leave to get Saeran, and so this exchange had been their final goodbye.

He fell to his knees, the pain tearing through him with the force of a hurricane. She had stolen his breath away, and she could never give it back. She had taken his heart, and he had ripped hers into a thousand pieces.

The sobbing shook his body, the tears dripping onto the floor and making dark splotches on the carpet. His own cries of pain echoed in his ears, drowning out the vicious silence that had haunted the apartment since he had arrived. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to squeeze away the pain, applying pressure to the wound. A wound that could never heal. A wound that would remain open and bleeding until he finally let himself be killed. He loved her so much, and he would never see her face again. He would never see her laugh; he would never see her smile. He had thought that the worst thing had been to be trapped here with her, unable to touch her, unable to smile at her. This was worse. Knowing that she was finally gone, that she was finally so far away that he couldn’t reach her…that was his real death. Everything else was just formality.


	25. Better This Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out what Nicky has been through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was physically painful to write. T_T I think I almost had a panic attack getting it down, so I hope I did any okay job. >.>
> 
> CRAP: Edited to add that I should probably put trigger warnings on this chapter SORRY I FORGOT TO DO IT WHEN I POSTED. I'll put the triggers in the notes at the end, so no spoilers for those that don't want them but if you have triggers I don't want to ruin your day D:

She had stopped running when her feet had started bleeding through the bandages. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, so she left a trail of bright red dots behind her, marking her frantic flight from the apartment like breadcrumbs. She had stopped running, but she hadn’t stopped moving. She continued putting one foot in front of the other, diligent in her forward motion, because if she stopped she would die. She would die because her heart would fail, because the pain and the shame was too great for her to bear anymore.

She was a stupid fool. A fool to think that anyone would ever believe her. A fool to think that things could ever be different. She was damaged goods, and no one was going to want her. She had been marked forever, marred with deep scars and wounds that still festered and decomposed. It would forever be a repellent to others, so that she could get close to no one. She was, well and truly, alone. 

She was shivering as she walked, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the shock. She couldn’t feel anything. She was numb from head to toe, numb to the very depths of her soul. Numb and empty. Dark and alone. The only thing she had left inside were tears, and those would never stop.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold her pieces together. She watched her feet move across the ground, watched the dirt from the streets collect on the bandages, watched the little red dots bloom onto the concrete as she took her next step. Her legs were turning so white they were starting to look blue. It was cold, or at least she assumed that it was. Somewhere her body was alerting her to the stupidity of running out of the house with no shoes, in a pair of shorts, but the signals weren’t reaching her mind. That part of her had already given up, and wouldn’t listen to reason any longer.

“Miss, are you okay?” a deep voice startled her out of her mindlessness, and she jumped, halting her slow march and looking up in shock. In a distant part of her consciousness she realized that she knew the voice, and as she looked up into his dark grey eyes they widened in alarm. “N-Nicolette?!”

Jumin closed the distance between them, placing one hand on her shoulder, the other tilting her chin upward so that he could look at her face, examining her for faults. “God, Nicolette, what’s happened? Why aren’t you at the apartment?”

She tried to talk, but she couldn’t manage words around the sob that swelled up and over her lips, a new waterfall of tears drowning her. Jumin tried to wipe them away, only to have more replace them, a never-ending flood because the dams had been broken and shattered.

“Sh, Nicolette please, calm down.” His hand pressed against the side of her cheek, warm in spite of the cold surrounding her heart. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”

“I just…I had to…I’m so sorry.” She broke into broken sobs again, unable to speak, unable to explain. He frowned, full of concern. She wanted to tell him to leave her in the streets, to let her wander in the cold until the elements claimed her. He would only grow to hate her, too. They all would.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping at the screen a few times before pressing it against his ear. “Assistant Kang, please cancel my meetings for the rest of the afternoon. Yes, it’s necessary. It’s Nicolette. No, I’m not sure. She’s with me. I’ll explain when I know more information. Yes, please check the chatroom. Goodbye.” He hung up the call, putting the phone in the pocket of his pants. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it tight against her. She was still shivering. Was she cold? The jacket was warm.

“Can you walk?” She nodded, mechanical, a programmed response. Initiating Nicky backup protocol, file name heartbreak and abandonment. Human responses simulated. Deactivation would occur as soon as possible. She could be thrown away, just like Ellie 2.0, into the bin where she belonged. “You’re bleeding.” His words broke her reverie, but didn’t snap her out of the disconnection that she felt from everything. The world wasn’t real anymore, and wavered before her unseeing gaze.

“My feet were cut on the glass.” She spoke, and she knew that she understood what she said, but it felt like a different language, strange against her tongue.

“You’re not making much sense.” He sounded frustrated, and he ran his fingers through his hair. “Please, my apartment is not far. Can we go there to get you out of the cold?”

She nodded again, and let him lead the way. She continued to stare at her feet as they walked, wondering if jumping out the window yesterday would have been the kinder death.

***

She was like a robot, her movements mechanical, her voice flat and hollow. She didn’t respond to many of his questions, and so he let her lapse into silence as he led her around the corner. The doorman gave him a strange look as he guided her into the lobby, and he glared in return. He made a mental note to reprimand him for having a lack of courtesy, and a disrespect for the privacy of the tenants in the buildings. It angered him that someone had looked at Nicolette in such a state and sought to judge her, without knowing the facts of the situation. Jumin himself still didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that she was a young woman who did not need the heavy eyes of opinion leveled at her. He hoped she had not seen it.

When they got upstairs he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. She stepped through the threshold and stood in the middle of his entryway, staring at her feet. She was listless, and lifeless, and it scared him to see her this way. He had never seen another human so broken. He would have never wished it on anyone, but especially not Nicolette.

He placed a hand on the small of her back, pushing her forward as gently as he was able in the direction of the table and chairs in his dining area. “Come, sit. Let me make you a cup of tea.”

She did as she was asked as he walked into the kitchen, taking a porcelain teacup from the shelf and filling it with boiling water from the fridge dispensary. He found a bag of fine chamomile in his cabinet and dipped it into the cup, watching the water turn to a mellow amber color. He didn’t have any sugar on hand, but he doubted that she would mind. The way she sat and stared, he doubted that she would be able to taste anything at all. She was a million miles away from the moment, locked in some torment that held her in place, transfixed in sorrow. Elizabeth the 3rd pranced into the kitchen, following him as he waited for the tea to finish steeping. She looked up at him with her crystalline eyes, and he thought that she looked worried.

He walked into the dining area and placed the cup on the table next to Nicolette’s arm, Elizabeth the 3rd trailing behind him. Nicolette glanced at the cup as though she couldn’t understand what it was, like she had forgotten what reality was and had retreated to someplace far away, someplace far darker and unsavory.

“What happened?”

“He hates me. He knows and he hates me. I knew that he would. You’re all going to hate me.” Her voice rose in pitch as she talked, but her eyes never wavered as they gaped at the cup.

“No, Nicolette. I could never hate you.” He sat in the chair beside her, unsure if he should try to touch her, unsure of what he could say to restore the light within her. What had Luciel done to her?

“That’s what Seven said. That he would never hate me. Everyone hates me when they find out.” Tears rubbed the skin on her face raw, her cheeks red and swollen. Every word looked like a monumental effort on her part, shallow breaths drawn into her lungs between each stilted sentence.

“Find out what? Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Just google the name ‘Professor Capalli’.” her words were venomous when she spoke the name, and her fingers clenched together in a tight-fisted spasm. “You might as well find out, I’m sure Seven is going to tell you anyways.”

He did as she asked, pulling out his phone and typing the name into the search bar. A number of hits were returned right away, and he selected the first one, opening a news article from roughly eight months ago.

 

“Prestigious Professor Convicted of Sexual Assault Charges

 

A prestigious and well respected professor from Obella University has been found guilty of sexual assault charges following a tense and controversial trial. Capalli was the school’s primary vocal instructor, and was well loved by the student body and colleagues. He was accused in February of assaulting one of his students while she practiced her vocal training under his tutelage.

 

The trial has been contentious, as there was security camera footage that showed the alleged assault taking place. The prosecution presented it as inarguable evidence of the defendant’s guilt, however the defense made the case that the faces the victim can be seen making in the video are those of “pleasure and enjoyment”, and that the relationship was consensual. The accuser, whose identity has been sealed by the courts, has been on record stating that she did not consent to the activities that took place that night.

 

The judge offered sympathies towards the defendant, but in the end decided on a conviction with a sentence of one year in prison, reduced from the standard five years in light of Capalli’s lack of previous criminal record, as well as the character witnesses that had taken the stand to defend him. His wife was said to have been among them, but has not spoken to the press about her feelings in defending an extramarital relationship. Mrs. Capalli is also employed with Obella University, and has direct contact with the student as her violin instructor. There has not been any information released regarding whether or not the school will be taking any action towards the wife of the accused, or if the accuser’s studies will be impacted.

 

Capalli will begin serving his sentence on March 1st, and it is rumored that the student that accused him of the crime will be taking time off from school, to return in the fall. We have reached out to both Capalli and his wife for statements, and will update should they choose to respond.”

 

Jumin stared at the screen, his emotions chaos. This had happened…to her? Nicolette was clearly the victim whose name had been withheld, but the article offered no explanation as to why she thought they would hate her because of this. She had been assaulted by a person in power and reported it, which was no cause for them to harbor ill will towards her. In fact, they should honor her bravery. By the tone of the article, her path to justice had not been an easy one.

“Nicolette, I don’t understand…why would Luciel be angry about this?”

She looked at him, but her gaze went right through him, her eyes seeing terrors long in her past. “They all did. I thought…I thought that it would all be okay. I thought that all I had to do was forget about his hands and his tongue…” she swallowed, her lips dry as she croaked out the words. “I thought that once I put that behind me and he was in jail it would all be over. His wife swore that she didn’t hate me, that she understood. That’s why they let her keep teaching me. I didn’t know how everyone felt until…” her mouth twisted into a grimace and she collapsed into sobs, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.

He reached across the table, grabbing her hand, her fingers icy against his. “What happened?”

She didn’t lift her head as she spoke, aiming her words at the table so that they echoed strangely in the room. “I went in for a recital, just three weeks before I met you guys. My…Mrs. Capalli, and everyone that I thought was my friend…they had hung up posters. A bunch of stills from the security feed. All the pictures that the lawyers had said showed me…that I was _enjoying_ it. They had put them up everywhere, and written horrible things on them. I walked in and they all started clapping and cheering, but it wasn’t…Mrs. Capalli stood up and said horrible, awful things. She called me a slut, and said that I had seduced her husband to ruin his life, that I was jealous of her because I would never play good enough to make it in the industry. Everyone I knew believed her. Everyone hated me because I didn’t let him…because I didn’t want…” her words broke off, strangled by a bitter sob.

His grip around her fingers tightened, and he used his other hand to lift her face so that she could look at him. “Those girls and their behavior are unforgivable. No sane person could ever hate you for standing up for yourself and telling the truth.”

She was hiccupping with how much she had been crying, her eyes red rimmed and full of pain. “Seven does.”

“You…it must be some mistake. Luciel is strange, but I don’t believe that he would feel that way.”

She laughed, but it was hysterical and joyless, poison spilling from her lips. “He said so himself. He said that he found out what happened, and so he never wanted to see me again.”

A deep and astounding fury welled up in his chest. How could he? How could he look this innocent creature in the eyes and tell her that she was unwanted? How could he look at what had happened to her and resent her for any part of it? Jumin wanted to march to the school and burn it to the ground, to throw the lot of them in prison and hire the world’s greatest lawyers to ensure that they stayed there. He wanted to hire someone to have her professor throttled while he rotted away in his cell. How could Luciel have felt any differently?

He kept his voice soothing, as though he were cajoling Elizabeth the 3rd. “Please, drink your tea, and rest assured that I have heard your story, and it only makes me admire you further.” He slid the teacup closer to her as she blinked up at him in surprise.

“Thank you, Jumin.” She was full of awe and shock, but it did not dispel the haunting shadows that lingered in her gaze. Too much. She had been through far too much, more than any one person should be made to endure.

She picked up the cup, her fingers shaking so much that she could hardly hold it. She was forced to take her time, but she eventually brought it to her lips and drank, and as she did he watched her take a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she took another sip, and he watched the panic and terror start to ease out of her body, leaving behind a sinking exhaustion that made her shoulders slump.

He wanted vengeance. He wanted righteous justice dealt to all those that had played a hand in putting her in such a state. The girl in the video that had been sent to them just as they had started to know her, that had been singing a song of such loneliness and such beauty that he had been moved to call her immediately, that beautiful creature should have never been driven to the point of wandering the streets with feet bound in blood. She was above that, and she was above all of the things that the world had seen fit to strike her with. He wanted to tear down all those that didn’t feel the same. There was no room in this world for other viewpoints. Nicolette was a victim, and she needed to be protected from people that could not see that, from people that would add to her scars and torment.

He spared a glance in her direction to ensure that she was still drinking her tea. She was occupied for the moment, calming herself with each sequential sip. He opened the RFA app.

****

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jaehee: Hr. Han, is everything alright?**

**Jumin: No. Everything is most certainly not alright.**

**Jumin: Where is Luciel?**

**Yoosung: he hasn** **’t logged in today**

**Yoosung: Nicky okay?**

**ZEN: What happened? Jaehee said you were with Nicky?**

**ZEN: You had better not try anything with her!**

**Jumin: I am not the one whom she needs protection from.**

**Jaehee: What happened?**

**Jumin: He told Nicolette that he never wanted to see her again, because of her past.**

He copied the link to the article and pasted it into the chat, knowing that they would need to see it to understand the gravity of the situation.

**Jumin: As I** **’m sure you can guess, the girl who was attacked was Nicolette.**

**Jumin: She was accused by her friends and teachers of seducing the man**

**Jumin: and has suffered a great deal of trauma at their hands.**

**Jumin: It would seem that Luciel agrees with them.**

**Yoosung: What?!?!!**

**Yoosung: no way**

**Yoosung: No way that happened to Nicky, no way Seven would say that**

**ZEN: I** **’ll kill him.**

**Jumin: For once we agree on something.**

**Jaehee: There must be some other explanation.**

**Jumin: She was running through the street with no shoes, crying.**

**Jumin: She said that he told her himself that he never wanted to see her again because of what he learned about her.**

**Yoosung: Seven** **…why? I don’t understand.**

 **Jaehee: Oh my god, Nicky** **…is she okay?**

**Jumin: No. As could be expected, she is not okay.**

**Jumin: She was convinced that we would all hate her.**

**ZEN: How could he? HOW DARE HE SAY THOSE THINGS?**

**ZEN: He promised to protect her!**

**Yoosung: this can** **’t be happening**

 **Yoosung: I** **’m going to be sick.**

**ZEN: Oh my god I just read more articles**

**ZEN: She was dragged through the mud with this trial**

**ZEN: There are articles speculating that she took time off from school to terminate a pregnancy**

**ZEN: They never use her name but everyone at her school must have known**

**ZEN: How could this happen? How could they treat her like this?**

**Yoosung: I can** **’t handle this.**

**Yoosung: how could anyone hurt Nicky?**

**Jaehee: This can** **’t be true. I know what she has said, but it** **_has_ ** **to be a misunderstanding. Luciel could never** **…**

 **Jumin: I don** **’t know what Luciel could or could not do.**

 **Jumin: I don** **’t know if we can trust him if this is how he feels.**

**Jaehee: We have to talk to him.**

**ZEN: Yeah, I have a few choice things I could say.**

**ZEN: Or I could just beat the hell out of him.**

**ZEN: Do you know how miserable she was yesterday? Do you know what he** **’s put her through?**

 **Yoosung: after what she** **’s already been through…**

 **Jumin: It** **’s disgusting.**

 **Jaehee: she had so much faith in him** **…**

**Jumin: Not anymore.**

**Jaehee: she** **’s still there with you?**

Jumin glanced at her, her fingers wrapped around the teacup, holding it as though it was her last link to sanity. Her eyes were still closed, and she was letting the steam from the cup wind up around her face, breathing in deeply before exhaling in a measured rhythm. Color had returned to her hands, and her legs no longer looked like they belonged to a corpse. He couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling, but he would do whatever it took to bring her back from the brink and prove to her that she was cared for.

**Jumin: Yes, she is drinking tea and trying to calm down.**

**Yoosung: you said she had no shoes, are her feet okay?**

**Jumin: I** **’ll call in a doctor as soon as she seems able to see someone else.**

 **Jumin: I don** **’t think she is in a state to handle a stranger at the moment.**

**Yoosung: Please tell her that we love her**

**Yoosung: and that we don** **’t hate her**

 **Jaehee: I still can** **’t believe this. This is more shocking than the bomb.**

 **ZEN: And a lot worse. I can** **’t forgive him for this.**

 **ZEN: I** **’m so angry right now!!!**

**Jaehee: What should we do about this?**

**Yoosung: What do you mean?**

**Jaehee: If Luciel feels this way, then can we really trust him to remain in the RFA?**

**Yoosung: You want to kick him out?!**

**ZEN: If he** **’s this much of a monster he has no business with us.**

 **Jaehee: I don** **’t want to jump to conclusions, but I doubt we would be able to exist as an organization with both Nicky and Luciel after this.**

 **Yoosung: So we have to choose** **…**

**Jumin: There is no choice. The correct option is clear.**

**ZEN: God, I hate agreeing with you, but Trustfund is right.**

**ZEN: We have to stand up for Nicky.**

**Yoosung: This is so awful.**

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

****

Jumin felt his blood run cold, blinding hatred driving him to clench his fist as he stared at the login announcement.

“Son of a bitch.”

***

He checked his things a final time, ensuring that he wasn’t forgetting anything. It would be his last great mission, so he wanted to make sure nothing was left behind. It would be a tragedy to arrive at the location only to discover that he didn’t have what he needed and couldn’t do a damn thing to help Saeran. Tragedy did seem to have a deep hold on his fate, so it was in his best interest to be careful, to avoid further pain. Then again, his pain was so deep and wide and all-consuming that it couldn’t possibly be worse. He was one third of a person because he had given away the pieces of his heart, and then he had ruined both the people that held them. What could be more painful than that?

He held his phone in his hands, his thumb running along the smooth surface on the back. He knew that he would have to log in, to officially quit the RFA, but he had put it off to the very last. He didn’t want to. As much as he tried to convince himself that it was for the best, as much as he knew that it was what he had to do, he didn’t want to leave behind the only friends he had ever had. What could he even say to them? What words would be good enough to explain the enormity of what he felt for them, yet make it easy for them to let him go?

His hands shook as he unlocked his phone and opened the app. He hesitated for another second, still trying to determine what he could say, how he could express himself. In the end there was no good way to do it. Goodbyes were going to be painful no matter what he did, because he had let himself get too close to them. He would cause them pain, and it would be one more thing to add to his list of regrets. He logged in to the chatroom.

****

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: You bastard**

**Jumin: I can** **’t believe you have the nerve to show your face in here**

 **ZEN: Give me one good reason why I shouldn** **’t find you and beat you to a pulp, Seven.**

 

Seven blinked in shock, wondering what the hell could have made Jumin and Zen so furious. He scrolled up through the conversation that had been happening in his absence, and with every new line his heart sank. He opened the article that Jumin provided, and the more he read the more disgusted with himself he became, his sanity snapping into a million pieces and dissolving into the blackness that swallowed him.

What had he done? He dropped the phone, his hands flying to the side of his head as he sank to the ground. _What had he done?_ What had he said to her? He would never…if he had known, he would have never used that as his final, desperate attempt to push her away. He would have never said a damn thing about it. What a monstrous, terrible thing that he had done.

His stomach rolled, and he turned and dry heaved, sick but too empty, unable to purge the awful truth because he couldn’t take it back.

It was too much. He had gone so far over the line that he could never come back. He had blown up the line and created a new definition for rock bottom, so far had he plummeted below the realm of the acceptable that light and hope could never exist for him again. She would hate him. She _should_ hate him. He had hurt her far more than he had ever intended…even though he had wanted to drive her away, even though he had wanted to make her disgusted with him, to see him for what he was…he had never wanted this.

He had told her that he never wanted to be anything with her because she had been assaulted. He had never imagined that the secret that she was so terrified of had been something like this. God, what had he done? He picked up his phone, fully prepared to beg for forgiveness, to apologize for the lie, to explain that this was never what he wanted…

He stopped halfway through the sentence, hitting the backspace key until the letters disappeared.

It would be selfish of him to ask for forgiveness. Selfish of him to make them hate him less. As much as he would always regret it, perhaps this was for the best. He was, after all, a twisted monster inside. Now they saw him for what he was, and they would be glad that he was gone. They would celebrate his death, and his last gift to them would be that release, the relief of not having to miss him.

He started typing again, letting his heart fill with the numb certainty that at least now he didn’t have to worry about hurting them when he disappeared.

**ZEN: ANSWER US YOU SON OF A BITCH**

**707: I came here today to officially resign from the RFA.**

**ZEN: You don** **’t get to resign. You need to explain what the fuck is wrong with you.**

 **Jaehee: Luciel, is what they** **’re saying true?**

 **Yoosung: Please tell me it** **’s not true**

 **707: It doesn** **’t matter. I just wanted to log in and let you know that you won’t be seeing me again.**

**Jumin: Good.**

**707: Everything is taken care of in the apartment so it should be safe from now on.**

**707: I recommend finding someone to replace me, to take care of the security in the app.**

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

****

His heart stopped, then started again with a frantic rhythm, pounding against his ribs.

**Nicolette: Don** **’t.**

**Nicolette: Please, just let me explain.**

**ZEN: You don** **’t need to explain. No one should ask you to explain for that.**

 **Nicolette: Please, Seven** **…don’t go, just let me talk to you, I can explain I swear.**

He couldn’t breathe. Tears blinded his eyes, his chest shaking before the storm of sobs broke through his lungs.

**707: There** **’s nothing to talk about.**

Every word killed him.

**707: There** **’s nothing to explain.**

His fingers shook. He had to delete typos and retype the words several times before they were clear.

**707: Just forget all about me.**

**707: Forget I was ever here.**

_Hate me. Hate me for the scum that I am._

**Nicolette: Seven, please!**

**707: Goodbye** **.**

He logged out of the app, holding his finger on the icon until the delete button displayed. He hovered over the little red x, delaying the inevitable, holding off this last step. The phone pinged as private messages started flooding in, everyone trying to shout at him at once. He could almost hear her saying the words that she had typed, the plea in her voice, full of pain that he had put there, that he had made worse. Every minute that he existed was another knife in her back.

He hit the x, and the app disappeared, his phone falling silent in his hands.

It was better this way. It was better that they hated him completely. Better that she hated him for betraying her. It was better that she turn to Jumin, or Zen. They could keep her safe. They could make her happy, give her a normal life. They wouldn’t put her in danger just by loving her. They could give her the future that he never could.

It was better…so why did it still hurt so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for: Mention of sexual assault, PTSD, Panic attacks related to PTSD, Harmful and depressing thoughts related to PTSD, mention of victim blaming, bullying...if anybody thinks of any other that I need to add, let me know in the comments.


	26. The Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it becomes too much for Jumin.

He was gone.

With a handful of words and a sorry excuse for a farewell, Luciel logged out of the chatroom and ceased answering messages. Gone. Just like Rika. Just like V. Disappearing in the moment where it seemed that they were needed most, in the moment where Jumin had needed them most. The world was full of cold emptiness, and he was always on the outskirts, always teetering on the edge of the vast wastelands in between human being to human being. He didn’t understand it, didn’t understand the shallow platitudes that they shared amongst themselves, the hollow words that meant nothing when in the end they could turn around and do this, to disappear and leave nothing but shattered memories in their wake. Temporary parades of smiles and laughter, temporary conversations that never seemed as important as they were. All of them faded, the marching band careening over the cliff’s edge, doom cutting everything short. Was the point of connection if, in the end, all of it was severed?

That conversation had not gone as he had planned, and he was at a loss for what he should do as recompense. Nicolette sat in his chair, at his table, her eyes glassy and heavy with tears. He wanted to help, but his thoughts were spiraling out of control, vaulting him into dark and strange lands where he couldn’t think through the thick, irksome fog. There had been a sudden stranger, thrown into the path of danger by a nefarious hacker. There had been a bomb, implanted and kept secret by the one person in the world that he thought he could always trust. There had been that woman, with her hands in his hair and her breath against his cheek, bringing the betrayal that his father had wrought straight into his office. Now this, the revelation that the world was colder and crueler than even he had imagined, an angel who had her wings plucked and tarred, the wounds thrown in her face as the onlookers pointed and laughed. Luciel had added to this, his voice the loudest in her precious ears, and with that she had shattered right before Jumin’s eyes.

It was too much. It was all too much. There was nowhere left to put the feelings, no space left within him to store them where they would not reach his thoughts. He was full, overflowing, his heart thrumming in his chest like the wings of a hummingbird being crushed between his lungs. His vision swam, his breath was ragged, and he couldn’t think around the pulsing panic, consuming all his thoughts.

The knock at the door startled them both and he turned in his seat. He would have risen to answer it, to send the visitor away so that none could see this moment of weakness, so that none could look at him and see the small, lonely man that he was.

Everything froze at once when the drag of a key in the lock echoed into the room.

He stood, positioning himself in front of Nicolette’s chair, placing his body between her and whatever had come rapping at his door. The handle turned, slowly, and the hinges were silent as it swung inward, opening to allow the intruder access to his home. A foot appeared around the edge of the threshold, encased in a heel so high that her calves bulged to stand in them. She sauntered into his house, a self-satisfied smile on her painted face, eyes roaming over his things with gleeful greed.

Sarah had entered his house. His _home._ And someone had given her a key.

“Get out.” He barked the words, barely biting back a snarl of rage. Not now. Not now and not ever. Never would he welcome her into his place of peace, into his bastion of solitude.

“Jumin, darling.” She simpered, walking forward as though she had done so many times before. His skin crawled at the idea that she might have.

“Who gave you a key?”

“Who else? Daddy dearest, of course.” She placed a finger against the edge of his counter, tracing it with her long fingernail. “He said that I should stop by so that we can get to know each other better.”

He slammed his fist on the table, knocking the teacup behind him askew and causing Nicolette to jump and squeal. “Get. _Out_.”

His voice was too loud, or Nicolette’s cry of surprise had been too much, or the presence of an unwanted stranger distressing him had been too sudden. It didn’t matter the cause, what mattered is the result, all the pieces falling into place to produce one final crime against his life and his person.

Elizabeth the 3rd yowled, fear threaded in her elegant voice, and then she ran, across the apartment, past the towering heels, and out of the still open door, into the world beyond.

Nicolette stood, her chair scraping against the floor. “Elizabeth!” her hand stretched toward the door, as though she could pluck the moment in time from its place, pinching it between her fingers to make it no more.

Sarah’s face contorted in rage. “Who is that?!”

Jumin stood, silent, staring at the place where his faithful companion had disappeared. Time stretched out before him, spiraling along a lazy road that wound its way into forever. Throughout all of it, all the minutes of the hours, all the days of the years, he could see nothing but black shadows dancing across the clock’s face, swirled by the ever-ticking hands. Nicolette ran past him, brushing past his shoulder and out the door, and this shattered his inaction. He chased after her, stricken with fury, stricken with doubt that made his stomach clench and the palms of his hands fill with sweat. The thudding of his heart grew louder in his ears.

The hallway was empty. The stairwell was empty. The elevator was empty. The parking lot was empty. The whole world was empty. It swallowed people, chewing them until they became nothing, until they became more emptiness, filling the air with the echoes of their memories. They returned to the penthouse with what they had found resting heavy in their chests, empty handed because that was all that had been.

Sarah remained, standing in his doorway like a specter that fed on designer handbags, drawn to the scent of despair and money.

“Did you find it?” she had enough tatters of decency that she sounded concerned, though it only rubbed salt in his festering wounds. He didn’t say anything, glaring at her with open hatred, his fingers shaking with the effort that it took to keep himself from surging forward and slapping her across the face.

She was perceptive enough to recognize this.

“Well, um…this is obviously a bad time. I’ll come back later.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, sweeping past Nicolette like an icy wind, bumping into her so that she nearly lost her footing. Jumin grabbed her elbow, steadying her against him as Sarah closed the door behind her.

Gone. Everything was gone. People, purpose, trust. What was left to him? He had been abandoned on all sides, his world shattered. While he had been clambering to repair the breaks in one part of the wall another part had crumbled, and each time he turned the world took advantage of his back to do it again.

“Jumin…do you want me to go back out and look for her some more?” Nicolette looked up at him, still leaning against him for support. She was warm, and her eyes were full of so much light that he wanted to squint, to lessen his field of view for fear of being blinded by them. Even beneath the burden that she already held on her shoulders, beneath the horrible things that she dragged behind her with chained memories, still she offered to give. She offered to open herself up and do something for him, when she had every right to demand peace, to demand quiet, to demand rest. Her feet were still damaged, her cheeks still sunken with exhaustion, and she looked up at him with eyes that were amber and summer, offering him the light.

The emptiness roared in his mind, the scrabbling claws of abandonment raking across his heart. She was the light of the stars, and if he let her out of his sight she might fall, crash to the ground and extinguish forever. If he blinked she might disappear, and the thought of losing her amidst everything else, the thought of having nothing left again, that was inadmissible.

“No, I don’t ever want you to leave again. It’s too dangerous for you to be anywhere else, because the world keeps trying to hurt you.”

Her eyes opened wider, her lips parting in a silent gasp. Even so, the idea of her staying, the idea of her remaining where he could keep her safe from the outside world, this thought was a comfort to him, and the roaring of the emptiness subsided. He released her elbow, tucking a strand of her crimson hair behind her ear.

“I should return to work, I can ask Assistant Kang to prepare searches for Elizabeth the 3rd, and I should finish some of my tasks for work. Will you stay here, where it’s safe?”

“Um…yes, I can stay.” Her voice wavered, but he held on to the sincerity in her words, latched onto the promise and bound it around his heart, soothing the anxieties that had taken root there.

“Good. I will return soon. Do not worry yourself, you’re safe now.” He brushed his finger against her cheek, feeling her warmth and imagining that he could take it with him, to hold it in his breast to get him through the trials that would await him beyond the door. It would be enough, he thought, to hold his fragments together.

***

 The afternoon was coming to a close. He could feel the sun descending in the sky, could imagine the deep blue above him as the rays stretched across the horizon. His vision was bad enough now that he had lost color, so imagining the sky was all that was left to him. The only thing that existed in his world now was blurred shapes of grey and black, a realm of shadows that he stumbled through while others walked in daylight.

It had taken him hours to find the path through the woods, hours again to follow it to where he had left his things. The haunted chants of the temple dogged his heels, his memories of what she had created a demon chasing his stuttered escape. Once she had talked about building castles in the sky, about the sunlight living within them and the warmth spreading through their love. Once she had been a beautiful girl, moved by the pictures on the wall.

He found the marker that he had left behind. It had only been a few days, but already that seemed like a lifetime ago. He had died and been reborn as someone else, living their life in a waking nightmare. He knelt on the ground, his hands scraping over the dirt. The rain had fallen more than once since he had last been there, and the soil had reformed, hiding his secrets better than he had intended. It took him awhile, but he finally found the small mound, packed tighter from erosion and the elements. He scooped the earth aside, feeling the grit wedge beneath his fingernails, feeling rocks and softer objects stick in the middle of his palms. Eventually he found the edge of the plastic bag and pulled it free.

He took out his phone, pressing the power button with trepidation. Would it work? Would he turn it on and still find the world at the other end, or had everything disappeared while he was gone? Perhaps her shadows had eclipsed everything, enveloping everyone in silence and darkness.

The screen lit up, but he had to hold it close to his face to be able to see anything on it. He squinted, and the jumbles of squiggles and shapes gradually became words.

117 messages. His heart stuttered against his ribs, his fingers shaking as he unlocked the device.

He started with the RFA chatroom, scrolling to the last point that he had checked in, through thousands of messages that he wouldn’t allow himself to read out of order. As he began his journey he started with hope, but his mind became marred with despair the closer her got to the present, each new message another stab of guilt across his shame tattered heart.

He finished them, and he hated himself. He opened his personal messages and drank in the onslaughts of first fear, then anger, then rage. Each member had reached out to him, and each one had broken in their faith of him before long. Some held out longer than others, but none had made it past Luciel’s confessions. The voice messages were worse. In those he could hear the accusation, he could hear the betrayal. He could feel Jumin’s heart forsaking him as he demanded answers from a man that wasn’t answering.

How could he have known? How could he have foreseen that Saeran would strike while he was away? How could he have planned for this?

He couldn’t have. He could have prevented it, though, and that was where his shame resided. It nested deep inside the realization that he could have ended everything before it had begun. If he had been better, if he had been stronger, if he had said the right thing…if he had been brave enough to stop her decline when it had gone too far.

His folly had destroyed an innocent girl’s life. She was alive, but by the messages in the chat it was a hollow existence. His negligence had resulted in the RFA tearing itself apart, and Nicolette had been thrown in the middle, fresh meat for the starving wolves. His fault.

Where had it all gone wrong? Where had he lost the battle? Perhaps he had never been fighting. Perhaps it had always been doomed, and he had only been fooling himself in thinking that he had any power, that he had any chance. He clutched the phone to his chest, holding it as though it held their hearts, as though it held their essence. He had done everything he could, everything that he could think of, and all it had done was drive them closer to madness.

Tears fell from his darkened eyes, dripping into the ground below like fresh rain, salting the soil with sorrow. He had loved them so much, but not enough. He had loved her more than he loved anything else, and it had not been enough. V was never enough, no matter how he might try. For this fact, in this one moment, he let himself fall apart. He let himself collapse on the cold ground, he let himself grieve for the love that was lost between him and the world. He let himself empty, of all the fear, all the rage, all the loneliness and the lies. He let the empty woods collect it, holding it in the boughs of the trees, the deadened leaves heavy with it before they fell. He gave himself this moment, and he let it run its course.

When he did not have another tear left in his body he sat up, brushing the grime from his face with hands that were just as dirty, smearing it into his frozen skin. He picked up his phone and opened the RFA app, pulling up the chatroom. It was empty, abandoned by its members as they chased terrors in the daylight.

****

**_V has entered the chatroom._ **

**V: I** **’m so sorry.**

**V: I** **’m sorry that I wasn’t here, I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest. I have no words to express the depth of my regrets.**

**V: Nicolette, I** **’m sorry that I put you in danger. I’m sorry that I let fear cloud my judgment when you first arrived.**

**V: I** **’ve read your messages with a heavy heart, and I am ashamed that I wasn’t here when you needed me.**

**V: You have every right to mistrust me, and to hate me. Your anger was well deserved.**

**V: I loved all of you, to the best of my abilities, but I don** **’t think that will matter much now.**

**V: I** **’m going to do my best to make things right. Maybe, if I’m successful, if I’m strong enough, I’ll be able to explain when I return.**

**V: This is all my fault. I accept full responsibility.**

**V: I won** **’t ask you to forgive me, because you shouldn’t. But just know that…**

**V: I am so sorry.**

**_V has left the chatroom._ **

****

He put his phone to sleep and tucked it in his pocket, fumbling around for his walking stick before standing to his full height. The wind picked up, cresting off the mountaintops to carry frigid air across his face, filling his lungs with icy resolve. He started walking, back in the direction of the temple, back to where the darkness started and the light would end. If he was going to make it in time to help Luciel, he was going to need to move faster than he had when he had left.

He prayed the path would be clearer, and that he would get there in time. 


	27. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky reflects on things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit small (sorry!!!). It was originally supposed to go with the chapter that's upcoming, but it was getting really long and I didn't like the way they flowed together, so I wanted to break them up. I'm still working diligently, though, so this probably won't be the only update you get today :p
> 
> And for those participating, happy Nanowrimo everybody! Let's write ALL THE WORDS.

The doctor left, showing himself out, and she stared at her feet. She had been scolded by the elderly man on several points, first and foremost of which had been her lack of appropriate shoes. He had examined her injuries, treated them, applied a new bandage, and then stuffed her toes into a pair of cushioned socks that felt like large pillows at the end of her legs. She stared at them, and all she could think about was how much more gentle Seven had been than the doctor. His fingers had been warmer, his skin softer. She felt strangely bereft now that his bandages had been replaced with new ones, even if the old had been covered in dirt.

She could follow the sequence of events that had happened, step by step, but she still couldn’t make sense of them in her mind. The memory of the bus, of the bumpy ride and the aggravating boredom, was still sharp and vivid. She could picture every moment, crystal clear, each step that had led her onward. When she traced that train of thought all the way to where she was now, sitting in Jumin’s apartment, it just didn’t add up. There was some key point missing, some number or rule that needed to be plugged into the equation to make sense. How had everything divided the way it had? How had she reached this point without him?

The quiet that pervaded the room made her uncomfortable. In fact, the entire place made her uncomfortable. She would have thought that the lack of a bomb, the lack of an angry and resentful man pushing her away, that these things being removed from her life would have made her feel better. She should be relaxed, but as she sat on the couch she couldn’t focus.

Everyone knew. Everyone knew, and yet they hadn’t been disgusted with her. They hadn’t blamed her, they hadn’t called her names or told her that she should have been more careful, that she should have just let it happen because Mr. Capalli was a nice man. They were still there, still in her life. They had stood by her, supported her, in ways that she had been missing since her father had passed away. They were all by her side.

All but one.

She should be angry. She had been angry when her friends from the University had turned on her. She had been furious enough to take a two week break while they found a teacher to replace Mrs. Capalli. It was why she wasn’t missing classes now, why she had been free to stumble into an unknown apartment and completely change the shape of her life. She should be furious that he had taken a glance at what had happened to her and decided that it was enough to shut her out. She should feel righteous, burning rage.

Instead she felt…empty. She stared into the fish tank built into the wall, watching the silver and charcoal angelfish inside dance around a stream of bubbles, and she imagined that she was in the water with them, letting the air drain away from her lungs. She remembered the look on his face when he had told her. He had been so disgusted, so angry, so desperate to make her stop talking to him. She could only imagine what he had found, in the articles, in the comments her previous friends had left on her Facebook page. Curiosity had gotten the better of them both, and he must have finally looked at everything, unable to resist uncovering her secrets. It didn’t matter that the court records were sealed, that her name was stricken from the files so that the conviction couldn’t follow her for the rest of her life. If anyone could have found it, Seven could have. She could hardly blame him, though. Secrets and lies had pervaded his life, and he must have been so exhausted from keeping them.

Even though he hated her, she still missed him. Now that she had been deprived of even his glares and anger, now that he was gone, she felt more alone than she ever had before. She knew that she wasn’t, because the rest of the RFA had made that clear, but still she felt like solitude had settled around her shoulders, a heavy shawl that would weigh her down each day until she collapsed. She tried to imagine the world without him, tried to imagine a chatroom where he never logged in, a phone that never rang with his call. It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t fathom his absence any more than she could count the stars.

She spun her phone in her hand, feeling the metal around the edges of the case, cold and smooth against her palm. Her thoughts ran in circles in her head, one leading into the next, everything blurring until it brought it back to him. Always back to him. Could he really be gone? Could this really have happened? Reality seemed strange to her now. Like the couch that she sat on and the air that she breathed were far away, even though she could feel them through her skin and her chest. Her heart was still beating, but that felt like the only evidence that she was still alive, the only proof that she had that this was not a nightmare that she could not wake from.

Her fingers brushed against the sleep button on the side of the phone, a small bump in the middle of seamless metal. Was there something more she could have said? Something more she could have done? It was hard to believe that there weren’t steps that she could have taken to prevent this. She had fallen prey to what everyone in the RFA had been victim to; secrets. She had kept her secret locked away, hoping that it would never see the light of day, and because of that it had backfired. It had exploded with all the force of the bomb that she had been living with, burning the world just like Saeran had wanted.

She turned, looking out the window at the fading blue of the late afternoon, her phone heavy on her leg as she tapped it against her thigh. Blue, his eyes had been blue. The more she thought about that encounter, the more she wished that she could return to it. She had been afraid, and it had made her weak. She had been so terrified that she would be hurt, or that Seven would be harmed, that she hadn’t been able to see what had been in front of her.

Saeran had scared her because she saw herself in his eyes. She saw the shadows and the pitch that she kept locked within herself. She saw what she could become, if she gave into the madness, if she let go of her hope and sank back into the self-loathing that always threatened to overwhelm her. If she let herself hate the world for what it had done, then the storm clouds would engulf her gaze, the same as him. They were birds of a feather who had both been plucked, both been caged, and the only difference between them was that she had never forgotten how to sing.

She couldn’t. Hope was a part of her, it was the thing that held her together even when it seemed ludicrous to keep it. It was why she had put her hand around his, pulling the detonator from his trembling fingers. It was why she had looked into his eyes and known what to say, and why she had ached with empathy when she saw him run away. His eyes had been full of sky, and she had kept hope that the storm would pass. Even before she knew what he was to Seven, she had hoped for him, because if he could be free, then perhaps they both could, and that her destiny wasn’t to follow in his footsteps. She still fought, and she would keep doing so. She hoped that some part of him was still fighting, too.

She clicked her phone on, her fingers shaking as they moved over the screen. She pulled up the app, and opened Seven’s contact page, his profile picture still grinning at her beneath his fiery hair. It could very well be hopeless. It could be too late, he could be too far away, the world could be broken forever with cracks so deep and festering with mistakes that it would never be pulled back together.

But Nicky wouldn’t believe that, because she had hope.

**Nicolette: I** **’m sorry. I know you hate me…I wish that I had a chance to explain everything to you. I wish that I had been honest with you from the beginning. I hate that secrets drove you away.**

**Nicolette: I know that the things people said about it make it look like I pursued him, that I was doing it for a grade or something.**

**Nicolette: I never wanted anything to happen with him. I idolized him as a professor, as a mentor. When he told me how he felt about me, I just started crying.**

**Nicolette: I kept apologizing, because I didn** **’t feel the same.**

**Nicolette: He went berserk, and I wasn** **’t strong enough to keep him off me. I screamed but…it’s a music school, so the practice rooms are sound proof.**

**Nicolette: I wish** **…**

**Nicolette: I wish that I had been able to tell you that in person. I would give anything to erase the whole thing from my past.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m really sorry that I disappointed you.**

She put her phone down next to her, staring at the wall, feeling empty and listless. She had hope. It would drive her forward when all else failed…but it was small, and far away, and now that she had told her story she was drained and tired.

She gave in, and let the exhaustion claim her, sinking into the blissful oblivion of a dreamless sleep.


	28. Count the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin is really having some problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnng I'm doing my best to do this part justice but it is VERY DIFFICULT to write so please forgive me if it's sub-par.

He stood in front of the door, his hand on the knob, hesitating to walk into his own house. Elizabeth the 3rd was gone, and Nicolette would be waiting in her place. Was it intrusive to just enter? Should he knock first? He didn’t know what the decorum was in this situation, and so he felt out of place. There were rules, of that he was certain. There were rules to any situation, rules to every encounter in society, and if one knew how to follow them then they could go far in life. He had always dedicated time to learning those rules, to learning the boundaries and the limits, to learning his place so that he could always remain in its comfort. He learned the rules because it made it easier to maintain distance, to maintain stability. He craved them like he craved air in his lungs. He could not determine the rules for this predicament, however, and that bothered him.

Worse still, he was afraid of what was on the other side of the door. He was afraid that if he opened it, all he would find was the emptiness again, a deep black pit from which nothing ever returned. One day it would come for him. It would take everything from him, one person at a time, and then it would take him as well. There would be nothing left behind but the ghostly silhouette of his loneliness.

His hand spasmed on the handle, and he pushed the door open, walking through like he would at the end of any other day, willing himself to breathe. The apartment within was silent, the thrum of the fish tank the only thing disturbing the absolute peace. For a moment the panic flared in the middle of his mind again, a bright star of fear that burned behind his eyes. He walked into the living room and exhaled, letting out his breath and admonishing himself for being foolish. She had not vanished.

She was curled up on his couch, much like Elizabeth the 3rd might have slept, her arms folded beneath her head and her feet tucked under her legs. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted a fraction of an inch as her breath came and went. She looked peaceful, and watching her sleep brought him his own sense of peace. She was purpose in a world that tried to deny him such, she was serenity amongst the madness. He knelt in front of her, marveling at the even cadence of her breath, at the placid waters of her dreaming face.

He didn’t understand the way he felt about her, the way she made him feel. He didn’t understand why her voice could drown out the chaos, even when it was loudest. Each time when he had spoken to her, his curiosity had grown, his desire to discover the answers increasing. He wished that he could understand her, he wished that he could find what made her so unique. He wanted to do more for her than he did other people, wanted to keep her closer than most. He wanted to protect her, always.

He was uncomfortable with his train of thought, so he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, watching as her eyes fluttered open.

“Good evening.”

She smirked, a lopsided grin that he couldn’t help but mirror. “Evening already? I’m sorry, I must have dozed off.” She stretched, lean limbs angling in different directions as she shat up, a yawn drifting between her lips. Her hair was fluffed on one side of her head, where she had been laying on it, but she managed to make even that look poised and graceful. “Did you hear anything? About Elizabeth?”

He looked at the ground, his feet less obtrusive than the worry in her eyes. “No, nothing yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find her.”

“Thank you.” He measured his breath, trying to find words to express himself and his gratitude over her concern. None came to him, so he moved past the moment. “Are you hungry?”

She grimaced. “Not particularly. I’m more tired than anything.”

“You should eat. In fact, I insist.” He looked down at her, and she looked up at him. If it was a war of wills then it was a short one, because after a moment she shrugged.

“If you insist.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He wanted it to. He wanted her to look at him with light in her gaze. Was that…normal? He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything from someone’s eyes before.

“What would you like to eat?”

She sighed, leaning over the edge of the couch to look at his kitchen, as though expecting options to materialize from thin air. Her brow furrowed as she thought, and he watched the small crease form above the bridge of her nose. “Hm. What do you have?”

His eyebrow quirked skyward. “Anything a chef can make.”

She rolled her eyes, which drew a chuckle from his chest. “You can’t possibly want to have some stranger show up and mess around in your kitchen after the day we had.”

It surprised him that he agreed with her. Everything that had occurred in the hours since the sun had crawled across the horizon had left him feeling defensive, like he wanted to place locks on his doors and never allow anyone to leave or enter again. His space had been invaded, by unwelcome revelations, unwelcome emotions, and unwelcome people. It would, in fact, be better to avoid allowing anything further to come in.

“You may have a point.”

She stood up, straightening her clothes from where they had twisted while she slept, running her long fingers through her hair to control the fluff. She grinned at him, and this time it very nearly lit up her face. “I’m full of good points. Here, why don’t you show me where things are and we can make something together.”

“It’s been some time since I’ve cooked anything.”

She brushed past him into the kitchen, standing with her hands on her hips. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Are you planning on lecturing me as Zen does?”

“Perhaps. Would it make you laugh?”

The suggestion itself made him laugh, and he stepped into the kitchen to stand next to her, shaking his head. “How can you…I don’t understand you.”

She tilted her head to the side. “I’m not complicated.”

“No, you’re…contradictory. You should be…I expected you to be sad, as you would have every right to be, and yet somehow you are smiling, and laughing. Trying to entice me to do the same. How do you do that?”

She strolled over to his fridge, opening the door and peering at the contents, likely to avoid his gaze. “Do you want the easy answer, or the true one?”

“I prefer truth.”

She swallowed, and he could see the muscles of her jaw tightening as she clenched it. “It’s bravado. Right now, I feel like someone has taken a scoop and carved me hollow like a pumpkin. But…well, being sad about it would just make _you_ feel worse, and you’ve got enough on your mind without worrying about me.”

“I want to worry about you.” He blurted the words out before he had given himself time to consider them, and he felt awkward as they hung in the air. She straightened up, turning to face him.

“I’m a lost cause, you shouldn’t waste your time.” There was the darkness. There was the fear and the sorrow, swallowing the light in her gaze, ruining the joke before it ever left her throat. She hid it behind her laughter, behind the mirth that served as her armor, but he could sense it within her, lurking in places where it should not be. Her brilliance was tarnished by it, and by the distance that she wished between them. Did he want to be closer? Is that why she drew him to her, like a moth to the flame, wings singed at the edge of the blaze?

She grabbed a cluster of vegetables that were stacked on the shelf, as well as a handful of other items which she deemed appropriate for whatever meal was in her mind. She turned and kicked the door closed with a gentle push from her heel, then piled everything on the counter.

“Alright, novice chef, do you know how to dice?”

“Novice?” he crossed his arms over his chest, not quite containing his smile as he quirked his eyebrow at her again.

“You said you hadn’t cooked in a while. That makes me the expert, and you the novice.” She smiled sweetly as she thrust cutting tools in his direction, waiting with incorruptible patience as he stared at them.

He had some trepidation as they set to their task, but it was easy to follow her lead. He let her instruct him, guiding his technique with aplomb and efficiency. It was relaxing to surrender control to her, to watch her work as she seasoned things and checked temperatures. The worries of the day, the roaring emptiness that was always at the edge of his mind; both receded, dulled by the sound of her humming as she cooked. He could still feel her sadness, and he wished that he had the words or the power to remove it from her, but her presence soothed his tension, and he forgot about Sarah’s hands or Elizabeth the 3rd’s frantic yowl. Instead he focused on her, all his attention, all his efforts, and in doing so it became easier to breathe, easier to continue standing, and easier to ignore the problems that plagued his waking hours.

They finished, and he helped her plate the food and take it to the table, filling glasses with a bottle of wine that he selected to go with the dish. It felt strange, to share a meal with someone in his home. Strange to have her there with him in such a personal setting. Everything about her was strange.

“So how did work go? I’m sorry that I interrupted your day like that.” She took a sip of wine, a hint of color spreading across her cheeks.

“Please, never apologize for that. I’m grateful that I was there to find you.” He tasted his food, and was surprised at how good it was. He ate from the spoons of world renowned chefs often enough, but this was something different. It lacked the complexities and elegance of finer dining, but it carried a certain charm that made him feel warm and content. “And to answer your question, work was busy. Assistant Kang tried to foist as many tasks as possible onto me before I left for the day.”

“Why do you always call her Assistant Kang?” she peered at him over the rim of her glass, her gaze searching his, as though she could discern his secrets if she looked hard enough.

“Is that not her name?”

“I’m pretty sure her parents don’t call her Assistant.” She raised her eyebrow at him, smirking.

He chuckled. “Ah, I see. I worry that being so familiar with her would make her uncomfortable. It is better to keep strict decorum, to avoid awkward situations. I am happy that she can be Jaehee with the others, but I believe she would prefer to be Assistant Kang when speaking with me.”

“Somewhere Zen just started fuming, and he has no idea why.”

He laughed, fuller this time, warmer, the roaring emptiness pushed further away. “Good, he deserves it.”

“I’ll send him your regards.” She took another sip of wine, winking at him. He felt lighter as he bantered with her. Lighter to see her smile, to see joy on her face. He had not felt this since the last party, when he had been surrounded by the RFA, by people that he felt connected to in ways that he was not connected to others. Before they had all disappeared. “In any case, you shouldn’t be so distant with Jaehee. I think it would make her happy if you were just a little more familiar, at least outside of work.”

“I’ll ask her about it. I’m sure the conversation will be very successful, and not awkward at all.” He smirked into his wine, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Jumin Han, was that sarcasm?” she laughed, tilting her head back as she did so, spilling bright sound into the room

“I concede nothing.”

“Naturally. Which reminds me, I ferreted out another possible guest for the party. It’s a literary group that’s dedicated to sarcasm in written formats. One of the other guests referred them, and I thought it could be a fun addition. What do you think?” she speared a piece of vegetable with the end of her fork before popping it in her mouth, a smug grin spreading across her lips as she chewed and swallowed. “I’m sure you’ll get along with them _famously_.”

“I defer to your exemplary judgment, oh wise party planner.” She stuck out her tongue at him, and he laughed again. It was an expression he would never have dreamed of making over the dinner table, nor would he have approved of someone else doing such, but somehow from her it was nothing short of charming. “I know it’s been brought up before, but I’m a little surprised you’re _still_ planning the party.”

“Hm. Easy answer, or honest answer?” she lifted the wine glass again, her lips stained red as she took another sip.

“Honest. Always.”

“Right now, the party is the only thing that I feel like I’ve been doing right. Everything else always goes wrong for me, but talking to guests, making arrangements…it’s been fun, and uncomplicated.” She shrugged, her hair spilling across her shoulder.

“Then I will make sure we’re all excited to attend.”

Her eyes finally crinkled around the breadth of her smile. “Thank you, Jumin.”

He wanted to say more. It was at the tip of his tongue, some declaration that meant something, some feeling that rattled around in his chest whenever she looked at him. He wanted to express what it was like to sit with her, to eat with her. He struggled, however. He couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find a way of saying what it was that he wanted to say. He was confused, as this was unfamiliar. Everything was unfamiliar.

His phone rang before he could collect his thoughts enough to make an attempt, and he glanced at it. Normally he would have ignored it, wishing to avoid being discourteous to a guest, but everything was so tumultuous still that it would be negligent to ignore his calls. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or irritated to see Jaehee’s picture staring up at him on the screen.

“Sorry, I should take it. It’s Assistant…” he paused, remembering her words, remembering the sentiment behind them. “It’s Jaehee.”

“By all means.” She waved her hands at him to dismiss him, and he hit the answer button.

“Jaehee. Good evening.”

“Mr. Han, have you…did you just call me Jaehee?”

He scowled at Nicolette across the table as she covered her mouth with her hand, silencing her giggle. “Apologies, Nicolette had suggested you might appreciate it.”

“Uh…I mean…yes?”

“Fine then. You will be Jaehee whenever we are outside of the office.” Nicolette flashed him the peace sign with her fingers and he rolled his eyes. “Did you have a reason for calling at this hour?”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Han…Jumin? Um, have either of you seen the chatroom yet?”

He turned his head away, praying that Nicolette hadn’t heard it, praying that it wasn’t something else to plague her. “No, I don’t believe so. Has something happened?”

“V logged in earlier.”

Jumin disconnected the line, pulling up the app immediately.

“Is something wrong?” the edge of fear in Nicolette’s voice made him wince, but he did not answer.

He scrolled up in the chat, reading the words, words that felt heavy and weighted but meant nothing. His heart was thudding in his ears, a loud drumbeat that reverberated inside his skull. Sorry? He was _sorry?_ V had been gone when they needed him the most, and his response was to apologize to an empty chatroom. Had he even thought to call them? Jumin had left him dozens of messages, sent dozens of texts. He had asked, ordered, and in the end pleaded for his friend to return to them, for his oldest companion to come back and explain the dark cloud hovering over his name. None of it had mattered. V had heard their cries, and he had descended from whatever hiding place he had found to provide them with more vague avoidance and an insulting attempt at communication.

Jumin left the chatroom and pulled up V’s contact information, pressing the call button. He prayed that he would answer. _Let him remain, let this one thing remain_ _…_

When the call was routed to the answering machine Jumin felt like he would collapse. Gone again, vanished without a trace, as though he had never been there at all. Had anything ever been? Perhaps there was no tangible world, perhaps reality had always been an illusion, a construct in his mind that was crumbling when put to the test. Weak, frail, nothing in his world could stay, nothing was stable. He had assembled a house of cards against a hurricane, and now he was left exposed, terrified as he was driven past the brink by the roaring, empty winds.

“He didn’t answer?” her voice was a murmur reaching across the void, and he looked up, surprised to still see her sitting at the table. She had her phone in her hands, the light from the screen tinting her skin blue and white, pale with worry. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know that you were close…I can’t understand why he wouldn’t reach out to you.”

A hundred things to say flew through his mind, each one too fast or too fluid or too difficult to speak aloud. _I never meant anything to him. My trust is shattered. How could the man I knew since childhood be so cold? He never cared. It was all a lie. Everything is empty and gone. Everything has vanished._

“Jumin?” she stood, walking around the table to stand next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

The contact was a rope, thrown into the heart of the gale, and it moored him to the moment. He was not alone. His apartment was filled with light because someone was there with him, heart beating and breath even. Her gaze didn’t pass through him; her words didn’t soar over him. She saw him, as though he were a real object that existed in the world, and she anchored him back to it, guiding him to the shores.

He cleared his throat and his mind, pushing everything further down until he felt stable again. “Yes, I’m fine. Please, don’t trouble yourself. We should finish our meal.”

The look she gave him was dubious at best, but she did return to her seat, drinking the last of the wine from her glass. “Tell me if you’re not okay, alright?” He couldn’t even begin to express what he was or wasn’t at the moment, so he merely nodded. “Anyways, I should probably be heading back to the apartment now, before it gets too late.”

The roaring continued, returning to him in full force. _Leaving?_ If she left she, too, would vanish. She would disappear into the nothing and he would lose the light in the world, lose the one thing that was real and true. No one would look at him again, no one would see him or hear his bitter cries. He couldn’t allow it. He couldn’t fight the madness; he couldn’t defeat the monster of shadow and paranoia that sank its fangs deep into his heart. He couldn’t be alone.

“No. I already told you, I don’t want you to leave. It’s not safe.”

She set down her glass, blinking at him. “I can’t just stay in your apartment forever.”

“Yes you can. I will provide everything for you.” It was the only way. The only way to ensure that she didn’t fade away was to keep her in his sights, to keep her close so that she couldn’t drift out of his reach. He needed to keep her safe, as fate had proven time and again that it did not have her best interests at heart. He would stem the pain, he would block the dangers of the people outside and what they would take from her. What they would take from him. He couldn’t allow her to walk out into the emptiness, to be swallowed by the black between the stars.

He could never let her leave again.

***

She looked at him from across the table, and she was unsure of herself. Her footing felt precarious, with one false step capable of sending her toppling over the edge and into darkness. Something in his eyes, something in the tension in his arms and the strained tilt of his mouth, there was something there that made alarm bells go off in the back of her head. Loud, insistent, thrumming to the beat of a drum that made her want to run until she eroded away.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be there any longer, she didn’t want to finish her meal or try to put on another brave face. She wanted to stand and flee, retracing her steps back to the apartment that had broken her, hiding from the world for the rest of her life. His gaze held her, rooting her to the spot with its need.

“Jumin, I know you’re worried, but that isn’t the right solution.” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to tremble.

“I will not hear arguments on the matter.” He was looking at her, and his face was a mask of calm determination, but his eyes…

Full of storm. When he looked at her she could see all the terror, the desperation and the pain, everything that hurtled through his heart and left bruises and wounds inside where no one could see.

His eyes reminded her of Saeran, and it scared her.

“I’ll stay tonight, if it will make you feel better.” She was afraid, but she could do this for him. He had done so much for her already, and she didn’t want to abandon him when he was like this. He needed a friend, and even though she felt like the last person that anyone should be leaning on, she would do her best to support him.

“Thank you.” The relief in his smile was palpable. “I’m sure you must be tired. Let me show you to the bed, you can have the bedroom until we arrange something more permanent.”

 _Permanent?_ Her heart pumped jittery rhythms against her ribs. “For now.”

He rose, gesturing with his arm that she should follow, and he headed towards the hallway. She did as she was asked, each step heavier than the last as she traced his path. He opened the door to a room with a large bed, the sheets and covers arranged impeccably and in pristine condition. There was a lamp, an alarm clock, and a dresser, but nothing else. It was so sparse and empty, as though no one had ever lived in the room at all.

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable however you wish. I promise that you will be safe here.” He stepped out of the door frame, allowing her to enter. It was cold, although as she shivered she wasn’t sure if it was the temperature that chilled her blood or the tremulous urgency in Jumin’s gaze.

“Thank you.” She walked over to the bed, running her fingers along the soft blanket, feeling as though she were trespassing. She didn’t belong in this room, she didn’t belong in this apartment. She belonged far away, on top a glass strewn floor with the smell of rain and flowers in her lungs.

“Nicolette?” She turned, and he was leaning against the doorway, his hair falling across his eyes so that she couldn’t see them. He looked smaller, framed by the light from the dining room, silhouetted in the moonlight drifting in through the window. He was a man trapped between worlds, torn by the demons living in his head. “Thank you for staying.”

He turned on his heel before she could answer, walking from the room and shutting the door behind him. She stared at the wall, bracing herself, trying to reorder her thoughts. Finally, she crawled into the bed, shuffling the covers around until she found a comfortable position beneath them. She closed her eyes, but after only a few moments it was obvious that sleep would not be possible until she relaxed, and so she pulled out her phone, opening Zen’s messages.

**Nicolette: You asleep?**

**ZEN: I was hoping you** **’d message**

**ZEN: And no, not asleep. Not even remotely.**

**Nicolette: lol same.**

**ZEN: How are you doing?**

**Nicolette: I** **’m…I think I'm broken. Like, I don’t even know if things are registering properly with me anymore.**

**Nicolette: System error.**

**ZEN: God, you sound like Seven.**

**ZEN: Sorry.**

A tear worked its way out of the side of her eye, and she scraped it away with the heel of her hand. _Peas in a pod._

**Nicolette: Me too.**

**ZEN: Did you get home okay?**

**Nicolette: about that** **…**

 **Nicolette: I** **’m staying at Jumin’s.**

**ZEN: WHAT**

**ZEN: NOPE DON** **’T DO IT**

**ZEN: WHY??!!??!**

**ZEN: STOP AND LEAVE**

**Nicolette: hey, listen**

**Nicolette: I** **’m actually really worried about him.**

 **Nicolette: After everything that happened this morning, then Sarah showed up and Ellie escaped. Then everything with V** **…**

**ZEN: I saw the messages. And Jaehee told me about the stupid cat.**

**ZEN: This is just the day from hell, isn** **’t it?**

 **Nicolette: I** **’m pretty sure I just live there now.  In hell, I mean.**

 **ZEN: You should come stay with me, I** **’ll make you feel like you’re in heaven~~**

 **Nicolette:** **…**

 **ZEN: Sorry, that** **’s not funny right now, is it?**

**ZEN: Okay, so everybody had a shit day.**

**ZEN: That doesn** **’t explain why you’re sleeping with Jumin?**

 **Nicolette: !!! I** **’M NOT SLEEPING WITH HIM.**

 **Nicolette: I said I was staying here, not** **…THAT.**

**ZEN: Yeah, I bet he has other ideas.**

**Nicolette: Just because you live in the gutter doesn** **’t mean the rest of us do.**

**ZEN: You keep telling yourself that, love.**

**Nicolette: anyways, put on your serious face for a second**

**Nicolette: I really am worried about him.**

**Nicolette: He isn** **’t talking about it, but I think everything’s really getting to him.**

 **Nicolette: He said that he doesn** **’t ever want me to leave his apartment.**

**ZEN: What?**

**ZEN: What do you mean?**

**Nicolette: That he wants me to stay here. Forever. He seems to think if I leave something bad will happen to me.**

**ZEN: Oi, trustfund, that** **’s not good**

 **ZEN: He hasn** **’t tried anything with you, has he?**

 **Nicolette: No, no, nothing like that. He** **’s been a perfect gentleman.**

**Nicolette: Other than not letting me leave.**

**ZEN: Hang on, I** **’m gonna call him and try to talk to him.**

 **Nicolette: Are you sure that** **’s a good idea?**

**Nicolette: Can you be civil?**

**ZEN: >.>**

**ZEN: He gets on my nerves but I don** **’t hate the guy**

 **ZEN: Besides, I can** **’t just let him tell you he’s gonna lock you up forever**

 **ZEN: Wouldn** **’t be very chivalrous**

**Nicolette: Alright. Good luck, then. And be kind, okay?**

**ZEN: I** **’ll do my best!~**

She laid her phone on her chest, watching the light reflect off the ceiling. It wasn’t long before she heard Jumin’s phone ring in the other room and his somewhat muffled answer.

“What do you want?” there was a pause, and she assumed that Zen must be speaking on the other end. “I don’t want to talk about V. He’s gone, there’s nothing further to discuss.”

She sat up, straining to listen.

“You wouldn’t understand. Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

Her heart rate increased.

“No. That’s between Nicolette and myself.”

Her blood rushed through her head.

“And risk something happening? You clearly don’t care as much as you profess.”

Her fingers clenched around the blanket.

“I can do whatever I please. I’ll do whatever it takes. She won’t disappear.”

Fear, black and oily, blossomed in the back of her mind.

“Frankly, Zen, I don’t give a shit what you think. Go back to staring in the mirror and stay out of my affairs.” After that the apartment filled with silence for a second, and she knew that he had hung up on him. When she heard his footsteps approaching through the hall she shrank away from them, sinking further into the covers as though the feathery down could protect her.

He knocked on the door, light and gentle, and she wanted to pretend that she was asleep, but she knew that she would be turning her back on him when he needed her.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?”

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see it, so she sat up further against the pillows. “Of course.”

When he walked in the door she could see the raw panic flashing in his eyes, unreasonable and broiling. “Zen seems to think you are frightened. Is that the case?”

“No, Jumin…I’m just worried about you.”

“I must warn you, if you are planning on making it difficult for me to keep you safe then I will have to take measures to ensure your safety on my own.” His words were dark, dripping with promises that she knew he would keep, if pressed.

“What do you mean?” her throat felt dry, her skin cold.

“If you have concerns you should bring them up to me, not Zen. I don’t like you talking to him if it’s going to make him meddle in our lives.”

Her fear reached a higher pitch, the creaking of violin strings about to snap under pressure. “Zen is our friend.”

His face crumbled, falling as he showed a true piece of what he held in his heart. “He wouldn’t be able to protect you. He wouldn’t be able to make you stay.” His eyes darted to the window, looking out into the cold night without seeing it. He looked like he was far away, and her heart sank. He wasn’t present, wasn’t with her. He was trapped in a nightmare whose walls he was shoring up rather than tearing down, and he was sealing her in with him. He blinked and turned back to her, and the look in his eyes made her blood run cold. “If you won’t cooperate I’ll take away your phone.”

Then he backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him, the metal of the latch sliding into place with a soft click.

Tears came again, burning against her already raw and ragged cheeks. She was so alone. She had been alone for days, weeks, months, always. She was so exhausted from being trapped on this island as the world showed her terrors, trapped with people who didn’t see her because they were too lost in their own dark woods. When would it ever end?

She picked up her phone, staring at the screen. She was terrified to message Zen again, because he would just get angrier and lash out at Jumin further. Anyone in the RFA that she got involved would just make the situation worse, pulling Jumin into darker and darker directions until he hurt himself. Or her. There was no escape.

She opened Seven’s messages again, tears blinding her as she typed.

**Nicolette: I** **’m scared.**

 **Nicolette: Jumin is saying he won** **’t let me leave.**

 **Nicolette: Something** **’s wrong with him, and I don’t know how to help him, and he’s scaring me.**

 **Nicolette: I know you aren** **’t there, or you aren’t going to read these…**

 **Nicolette: But I feel like you** **’re the only person I can tell.**

 **Nicolette: I** **’m sorry. I’m so sorry.**

She let her phone slip from her fingers, skidding across the bed until it came to a rest beside her. She curled into herself, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, stuffing her sobs into the blanket so they would be silent.

Where had it all gone so, so wrong?

***

The wind whipped the air around his ears, and he let the cold sink into his bones, let it numb him as he drove around the empty mountain bends. He was alone with the stars, and he tried not to look at them, because they only reminded him of her.

He reminded himself of his purpose, pushing his feelings out of the way so that he wouldn’t be distracted. She hated him now. There was no point in dwelling on it. She was safe, and would be happy. Saeran still needed that from him, so he couldn’t afford to focus on the girl he had left behind.

He pushed the car forward, adjusting the gears so he could increase his speed. The night rushed past him, blurring into streaks of black and grey. All except for the stars, uncountable and brilliant, shining with memories and regret.

_“Wow, there’s so many!” Saeran’s head was tilted all the way back, his eyes wide with wonder._

_“You’ve seen them before.” He clambered up next to his little brother, sitting on the cold roof tiles and shuffling his feet to keep warm._

_Saeran shrugged._ _“Not often. Mother doesn’t like it when I look outside, so she keeps the windows closed now.”_

 _He bowed his head, pain lancing through his heart._ _“I know. Someday, though, you’ll be able to go out whenever you want. Then you can look at the sky every night.”_

_“Do you think I could count them? If I looked at them every night, could I count the stars?”_

_He laughed, ruffling his brother_ _’s hair. “That’s dumb, there’s way too many.”_

_“Oh.” Saeran sighed, leaning back on his hands. “They’re pretty.”_

_He nodded, falling silent as he looked up at the small points of light, the remnants of explosions happening billions of miles away. He liked to come up and look at the sky with Saeran whenever their mother was gone late. He felt small when he saw them, and how big and wide the night was above them. It was good to feel small, because then his problems didn_ _’t feel so big. Smaller problems meant a greater chance of solving them, and when he looked at the stars he remembered to hope for that. Especially when Saeran could see them too._

_“Do you think it would hurt for very long if I jumped?” Saeran startled him as he spoke, and he hadn’t noticed that his little brother had moved so that he was peering over the edge of the roof, his eyes riveted on the ground._

_“Hey!” he grabbed the back of Saeran’s shirt, yanking him until he bounced back on his butt. “That’s dangerous!”_

_“I know. Sorry.”_

_“Listen, don’t ever think like that. When it gets hard, you should always look up, look to the stars. When you look down you give up, and you can’t ever give up, okay?”_

_Saeran nodded, his eyes brimming with tears._ _“Okay.”_

_He pulled his brother into a hug, and they held each other and watched the stars, dreaming of freedom together._

Seven blinked, letting the tears in his eyes fly away in the frigid air. They had tried so hard. Saeran had always struggled to hold on, and he had always struggled to find reasons for him to keep doing so. He had been promised that it would be over, that Rika and V would take care of them. He had been promised the stars…but they were still out in space, and he was down on the ground. He couldn’t look up, because it only reminded him how far he had fallen. How much light he had squandered.

He grit his teeth, smashing the gas pedal. _I_ _’m coming, Saeran. Don’t give up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, we have now reached the end of day 9.


	29. Powerless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zen makes a plan and Sarah is not helping anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100k words ahhhhhhhh thanks to everyone for putting up with my verboseness. :p

The cold air still clung to his skin as he jogged back inside, his sweat a fine sheen across his face, reflected out at him from the mirror by the door. He wanted to stop for a selfie, but he didn’t have the time. His run had cleared his head, and he knew what he needed to do. He didn’t want to waste time before acting on it. His conversation with Jumin the previous night had disturbed him, even more so than usual. The business-minded jerk irritated the living hell out of him, and was an emotionless weirdo most of the time, but he had never known him to be unreasonable. Keeping Nicky locked away, talking about her as though she were some jewel he could keep barred in a vault…that wasn’t the actions of a man driven by logic. That’s what had made Zen toss and turn all night, fear driving away sleep as he tried to figure out what he could do. 

He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wiping himself down as strolled back into the kitchen. He tossed some instant coffee into a mug, sloshing water in afterward before he put it in the microwave. He unlocked the screen and tapped his way to the RFA app, pulling up Jaehee’s information and hitting the big, green call button. It rang once before her voice filtered through the other end, not even a little bit sleepy.

“Hello?” he could hear papers shuffling in the background, no doubt from piles of work that she should not have had to deal with at seven in the morning.

“Good morning, Jaehee. You sound bright and awake!” he leaned against his counter, listening to the whir of the microwave behind his head.

“I usually get up this early for work, you know that. Were you out running again?” she sounded busy and distracted, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for her. Her workload was oppressive. One more reason Jumin deserved a good, swift kick in the head.

He chuckled, dismissing thoughts of Jumin before he ruined their pleasant small-talk. “How did you guess?”

“You’re more dedicated to health than Jumin is to his cat.” _Damn, no escaping him then._

He blinked as her words sunk in. She had never used that jerk’s first name before. He rolled his shoulder, trying to ignore how irritating he found it now that she had. “I suppose you know me too well.”

“Oh, um…I suppose…” he could feel her anxiety through the miles between them, as though she were vibrating with it from just across the room.

“Listen, I know you’re busy, so I’m sorry to bug you -”

“You’re not a bother -”

“- but I need a favor.”

There was a pause from her, and he could picture her halting what she was doing to pay attention to the call, her hands finally falling still as she stopped holding the phone between her chin and shoulder.

“A favor?”

“Yeah. I need you to give me fancy pants’ address.”

“Why?” her suspicion oozed from the question. Right about now her eyes would be narrowed, her finger shifting to push her glasses up along the bridge of her nose.

“You heard about Nicky, right?”

She sighed. “Jumin did mention that she was staying there, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

He twitched when she said his name again, then he scowled thinking about the conversation he’d had with the ass last night. “Actually, he told her she wasn’t allowed to leave.”

“What?! Are you sure?”

“Confirmed by her, and him. He thinks he’s keeping her safe or some shit.”

“Oh, that is _not_ good news. Wait, then why do you want his address? What are you planning to do?”

Zen held up his hands in protest, even though he knew she couldn’t see them. “Hey, calm down! I just want to go over and talk, and see if he’ll calm down and let me get Nicky out of there.”

She sighed again, heavier and more exhausted this time. “I don’t know…he’ll be upset if you just show up like that.”

“I know.” He ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the microwave as it announced the completion of his coffee. “I know…I know that you care for him, but he’s not acting like himself right now. I want to help both of them.”

“Care for him?” her voice rose in pitch on the other end of the line.

“I mean…you have feelings for him.”

He heard her drop the phone, and then there was a great deal of static and thumping before she recovered it. “I don’t…I couldn’t… _what the hell gave you that idea?!_ _”_

Her vehemence surprised him, and he blinked several times before he could answer. “Uh…wha…why else would you work so hard for him?”

“Because I value my job, and I do respect him as a colleague and friend. _Feelings,_ as if.” She huffed out an irritated laugh, and he felt his heart climb into his throat.

“Really? Nothing at all?”

“ _Definitely not._ Honestly, the things you come up with sometimes…” he couldn’t see her, but he knew she was shaking her head, and he grinned.

“So…does that mean you’ll give me the address?”

This time her sigh was one of defeat, but he could feel her smile through it all the same. “Yes, but only because you make a good point about him not being himself. I think something is wrong, and his behavior towards Nicky is just a diversion.”

“Yeah, probably. That jerk needs to learn how to deal with his feelings without obsessing over things like furballs.”

“I’d prefer that he obsess over furballs rather than Nicky.” Worry leeched the humor out of the joke, and he wished that he could be there to hug her and say that everything was going to be alright.

“Very True. Cheer up, I’m sure he’ll listen to reason sooner or later.”

“I hope so.” Her breath brushed against the receiver, and if he closed his eyes it felt like she was there with him. “Anyways, I should get back to work. I’ll email you the address. Be careful, okay?”

“Ha! I can handle mister silver spoon, don’t worry about me.” He chuckled, and then let it fade. Even when he knew he should say goodbye, he kept holding the phone to his ear, living in the moment for just a little longer. “Hey, Jaehee?”

“Hm?” she sounded distracted again, and he heard the papers shifting and moving once more.

“I’m glad you don’t have feelings for him.” He disconnected the call before she had a chance to protest, shaking himself to clear away the jittery feeling the admission had left in his limbs. He switched out of the RFA app and pulled up his regular contacts, shuffling through them until he found his director’s entry. He would have to call and reschedule the rehearsal. It would be a huge pain, and he would probably get a long lecture as penance, but he had something more important to do today, so he couldn’t be an actor.

Today he needed to be a big brother.

***

 Everything was cold and smelled like dirt. This was probably due to the fact that he was currently crouching underneath a bush, trying as hard as he could not to move in case he was seen. Knowing why didn’t make it any more pleasant.

The monolithic building stood like a palace of vivid solitude in the middle of the mountains. Time and life seemed to stop its normal activities around it, everything motionless and still. He had been watching for five hours, and he had only seen one person walk across the path of a window. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have said it was abandoned. Except that he did know. Somewhere in that glowing green monstrosity there was a room that pumped out more data than all the rest of them, and he had hedged all his bets that would be the room where he would find Saeran. His little brother, the hacker that had nearly gotten the better of him. That had nearly tossed the love of his life out a window.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, pushing her back away from the front of his mind. She kept showing up there, an uninvited guest that refused to leave. She was always around his head somewhere, reminding him of all the ways that he had failed her.

 _Focus, idiot._ He had someone else to save now, so there was no use dwelling on the past and all the bridges he had burned.

He picked his binoculars out of the dirt, blowing on the lenses to clear them before he pressed them to his eyes. Still clear, no guards, no security. There were cameras, of course, but he already had those charted on maps, and he’d written enough code to disable them for a week if he needed to. He would only require five minutes to get in, but it was good to have a backup plan.

He had to blink and adjust his sights when he saw someone emerge from the larger doors near the front of the building, walking around a small path by the side. They wore a large, black cloak that hung heavy around their shoulders, the hood thrown up and obscuring their face. Every step they took was confident, unhurried, and strangely poised. If he had to guess, he would say it was a woman, but it was difficult to judge something like that from just a walk. They made their way around the corner, and that’s when he spotted the side door, hidden at the end of the trail. He toggled the zoom on the lenses, bringing the area into sharper focus, and he watched the cloaked figure enter a long code into a small keypad next to the lock. It popped open, and they swung it wide and walked in. He couldn’t see much through the gap before it closed, but it was definitely a stairwell that led down to the lower level. He didn’t need to check his maps to know that was the direction he needed to go.

_Bingo._

He tilted his wrist and checked his watch. Just before nine in the morning. He could wait until nightfall, and decrease his chances of getting caught, but with the lack of security outside of the building there wasn’t much point. If he was going to be spotted, it was going to be inside, and that was going to be dangerous whether it was day or night.

Plus if he moved during the day the stars wouldn’t be able to silently judge him when he went.

He put the binoculars back up to his eyes, watching the door carefully. He would move when the hooded figure left, and head in once it was clear. Then he would find his brother, get the hell out of there, and try not to fuck everything up any worse than it already was in the process.

***

Everything was cold and it smelled like unscented soap. She didn’t open her eyes, some vague intuition convincing her that trying to go back to sleep was a better decision. The events of the previous day came rushing back to her as her consciousness ebbed towards the waking world, and she knew that it was too late to drift off when she felt the twist of pain and panic fill her heart.

She blinked, her eyes shrinking away from the brilliant sunlight flooding through the tall window into the vibrant white room. Everything was still perfectly in place, just as void of human presence as it had been when she’d drifted off on the soggy pillow. The only thing that had been disturbed was the covers, and she had really done a number on them. She realized that she was twisted up in the sheet like she had been trying to do ballet in the middle of the night, and she irritably started tugging at it trying to undo the knot of her own creation. It was easier than thinking about the knots in her head.

Free from the confines of the linen, she dug around the fluffed blankets until she located her phone. She looked at the clock and groaned. Ten already? She rubbed at her eyes, both of them swollen and aching from the waterworks she had experienced the previous day. She tried not to think about it. She unlocked the screen, flipping through her notifications. She’d received a handful of messages from Jaehee and Zen, though it was just a few good morning shouts that wouldn’t require her response. Yoosung, however, had sent her an actual question roughly thirty minutes ago, so she opened the thread to reply.

**Yoosung: Did you mean what you said, when you told him not to go?**

**Nicolette: Morning, Yoosung.**

**Yoosung: Hey~ You** **’re up!**

**Nicolette: I am now >.< too much sleep**

**Yoosung: sorry about the weird question, you can ignore it if you want**

**Nicolette: it** **’s okay**

**Nicolette: I did mean it.**

**Nicolette: Even if he hates me, I would have rather he stayed.**

**Yoosung: Nicky** **…**

**Yoosung: Do you really think he hates you?**

She stared at the screen, at the little blinking line in the blank text box, appearing and disappearing, daring her to be honest. She sighed, knowing that it would be less painful to type it out than it would be to say it out loud, though both would ultimately hurt.

**Nicolette: I don** **’t know.**

**Nicolette: There are some really terrible things out there about me**

**Nicolette: my professor was pretty influential.**

**Nicolette: if Seven saw some of it, I could understand that he might believe it**

**Yoosung: No way! Nobody who actually knew you could believe that stuff.**

**Nicolette: Thanks. I wish that were true.**

**Nicolette: but I** **’m thankful that you guys know, and that you didn’t kick me out because of it**

 **Yoosung: I don** **’t think anybody in the RFA could really do that**

**Yoosung: I did think that, anyways.**

**Yoosung: But I think you were really brave.**

**Yoosung: You** **’re kind of my hero, actually.**

**Nicolette: ? O.o**

**Yoosung: you go through all this stuff, but you still find a way to be positive.**

**Yoosung: I don** **’t think I’ve ever met anybody as strong as you.**

 **Nicolette: good lord Yoosung you** **’re gonna give me a cavity**

**Yoosung: lolololol sorry**

**Nicolette: :p**

**Yoosung: I should get going. I have some stuff I want to think about.**

**Yoosung: have a good day, though.**

**Yoosung: call me if you get too sad, okay?**

**Nicolette: sure thing, kid :p**

**Yoosung: -_- we** **’re still the same age**

**Nicolette: ^^ bye~~~**

She had just put her phone back to sleep when she heard the faint knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened a few inches, and Jumin peered around the edge, the smile on his face several degrees too tense but otherwise friendly. “You’re awake. Good morning, Nicolette. Did you sleep well?”

She watched him, looking him over, trying to sense if there was some sign of the man on the edge that he had been the night before. After a pause that was more than a few seconds too long she sighed. “Easy answer or honest?”

He frowned. “Honest.”

“I had a lot of difficulty falling asleep, but I think I had a coma when I finally got there.” She smiled, kicking the last clinging fronds of the covers away and swinging her feet to the ground. “Wait, shouldn’t you be at work?”

He pushed the door open further, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms over his chest. “I wanted to wait until you were awake. Would you like something to eat?” his smile was perfectly charming, no hint of the faults and cracks from when he had threatened to take her phone away.

“Do you insist?”

“No, but I would make a strong recommendation.” The glint in his eyes was mischievous, and she laughed.

“Well then, I will take your valued advice. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be right out.”

He bent over and picked something up off the ground near his feet, walking into the room with footsteps that lacked his usual surety and purpose. He held out a mid-sized, purple shopping bag and cleared his throat. “I had some clothes delivered, I hope you don’t mind. I thought you would be more comfortable if you could change.”

She took the bag, peering into it. “You really didn’t have to -”

“This time I do insist.” He tilted his head, his hair shifting away from his face to reveal the sincerity in his expression. “I meant it when I said I would provide for you. I will make sure you want for nothing.” She frowned, fidgeting with the handle on the bag. “Is something wrong?”

“Easy answer, or honest?”

“Always honest.”

She nodded. “I’m uncomfortable with you saying that. With you wanting to keep me here.”

His eyes darted to the floor and stayed there, affixed to the point between his feet. “I…I do understand. However, it is not safe for you to leave. I can’t imagine you vanishing.”

She took a step forward, tilting her face up so that she could try to meet his eyes. “Why do you think I’ll vanish?”

For a brief span of time it looked like he was there with her, and that he would open up and provide an answer to the pointed question. Then something flickered in the back of his mind, some reminder of whatever torture he was putting himself through. He stepped back from her, towards the door, and she felt the moment slip through her fingers.

“I am going to go prepare something to eat. Please, let me know if there is anything in the clothes that isn’t to your liking, and I can have other things purchased.” Then he turned and walked back down the hallway, his footsteps fading into the kitchen.

***

She was so naive. Even after all of the times that she had been burned, she was still willing to walk through fire, still willing to venture out into a world that cared nothing for her. It was reckless, and foolish, but he wanted to protect that part of her, too. It represented something whole, and pure, that rose above the normal motivations of the common human heart. Her wish to believe in good outcomes, no matter the odds, was part of what made her strange. Part of what made her wonderful.

It was this that he found the most fascinating about her, but it was also what he feared would disappear first. She was a delicate candle, flame fluttering in the wind and rain, and her light made her brave and determined. Yet no flame could withstand any storm, and hers was so small and precious that he knew it would only take one more gust to put out her light. He would not allow that. He would not allow her light to fade into the empty nothing.

He walked into the kitchen, pulling out a selection of fruit and placing it on the cutting board. He ignored the notification alarm on his phone as he started slicing the fruit into sections, portioning it in perfect, symmetrical squares. He hadn’t taken any of his calls this morning after informing Jaehee that he would be coming in late. For once work would wait, as he had found something worth delaying the day for. It was a revelation. In one single morning, he could understand why others would lose focus during long days, why they would take time off or feel anxious to arrive at the end of their work hours. They must have had something to go home to, a reason that they wished to be there. His home wasn’t filled with empty walls and silence, and it was a novel concept. Elizabeth the 3rd was a graceful and attentive companion, but it was not the same. He had always thought that it was enough. He had always thought all he needed were the limited connections with the RFA, the love and respect of his father, and the swishing tail of his cat.

In the end, all of those things had dissolved, but Nicolette had emerged to replace them.

He heard the door at the back of the hallway open, and he glanced up from his task to see her step out of the room wearing the clothes that he had picked out. His hands paused, the paring knife dipping down to rest on the cutting board as his mouth dropped open.

She looked…different. He had selected a pleated skirt and cotton blouse, hoping that it was casual enough and comfortable enough for her tastes. She wore them well, the fit a better match than he could have hoped after the stylist had fretted about not being able to collect any measurements or estimates beyond the one picture he had in his phone. He made a mental note to send a larger tip. As Nicolette walked across the apartment her steps were small and timid, a dotting of blush creeping across her cheeks. She was radiant, and yet something seemed off. He couldn’t place it, but something about her in the outfit was unsettling in some way. It was not that she was not beautiful, nor that he found the items distasteful. If that was not the case, why did he feel as though he should have picked out something else?

He opened his mouth to speak, although he wasn’t sure what words he had available, but before he could articulate anything there was a sharp knock at the door. He frowned, glaring at it, as though the wood could bend to his will and send the visitor away. He grabbed a towel, wiping his hands as he walked into the entryway.

“Please, have a seat anywhere you would like,” he called over his shoulder as he grabbed the handle. “I’ll have breakfast ready in a moment.”

Her muffled assent drifted to his ears, and he smiled as he swung the door open.

The smile fell, his face feeling flat and deadened as Sarah smirked at him, walking straight past him and into his home without waiting for an invitation. “Good morning, honey. You weren’t at the office, so I thought I would stop by again so we could pick up where we left off.” She trailed her fingers along the back of his shoulder and he shuddered, backing away from her touch.

“Leave.” He swallowed, hating the way his skin felt whenever she was in the room.

Sarah ignored him, waltzing into the living room. She put her hands on her hips, glaring at Nicolette, who looked even more unsure of herself now that their morning had been invaded.

“So, you’re still here.” Sarah spat the words, her eyes flashing with malice. “At least now I know he isn’t gay.”

Nicolette narrowed her eyes. “I am still here, and what that means is absolutely none of your business.”

Sarah laughed, a cackle that filled the air with vindictive poison. “Everything he does is my business. Like it or not, you little trollop, but I have his father’s blessing. All you have is rumpled hair.”

Nicolette’s fingers flew to her hair, pulling at the soft curls as her eyes filled with self-doubt.

Jumin strode forward, his jaw clenching as he tried to control his anger. He grabbed Sarah’s elbow, pulling her back towards the door. “I want you out, and I don’t ever want you to come here again. You can inform the security guard that let you in that he is relieved of duty on your way out.”

She spun into his arms, surprising him so that he lost his momentum and fell back into the wall, Sarah pressing herself against him with her hands on either side of his hips. “Honey, the guards aren’t going to go against your father. I don’t know why you insist on fighting this.” She snaked her palms up along his sides, rolling them across his chest, sliding them up and around his neck slowly. He tasted bile in the back of his throat, but he couldn’t move, frozen to the spot as though filled with a paralytic that had sapped his strength and will. All he could focus on was her touch and how much he hated it.

Nicolette grabbed Sarah’s shoulder, the two women glaring at each other. “He didn’t give you permission to touch him.”

“Hmm, why? Does it bother you?” Sarah reached her hand up towards his face, but Nicolette grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, moving her a few feet away from him. With the contact gone, he almost felt like he could breathe again.

“I believe he asked you to leave.”

Sarah wrenched her arm away, taking a step away from Nicolette and back towards him. “Know you’re place, you irritating little gnat.” She turned her eyes to Jumin, grinning.

She was going to touch him again. He knew that he should be angry, that he should be screaming and throwing her out. He knew that he should be defending Nicolette against the insults this vile creature was hurling at her. Instead he sank deeper into a black pit that had opened up in the middle of his mind, curling around his thoughts until they seemed very far away. Why was Sarah here? Why wouldn’t she leave him alone? She continued her aggressive pursuit of affections that he did not have for her, and no amount of refusal or rejection was sufficient to drive her away.

He felt powerless, and the emptiness within him howled and grew larger.

“Stop it. He doesn’t want you here, why won’t you leave him alone?” Nicolette stepped in so that she was next to Sarah, putting her body between him and his pursuer.

Sarah shot her arm out, grabbing Nicolette around her wrist, still bruised a deep purple from her encounter with the hacker. She grimaced and gasped, her knees buckling as Sarah squeezed. Jumin unfroze enough to catch her, to keep her from tumbling to the ground by wrapping an arm around her waist. He pulled her closer, both of them bumping up against the wall again, giving them a stretch of space between Sarah and themselves. She was already starting to close the gap, already coming back towards them. He couldn’t think, because his mind was drowning in panic and darkness. He couldn’t breathe, because the air was clogged with the scent of her repugnant perfume. He couldn’t move, because his skin was crawling with the idea of her hands on him.

He looked down at Nicolette, face flushed in anger, still so bright even as her wrist must have been throbbing. He did the only thing that he could think of, the only thing that seemed like it would drive out the darkness and send the desperate woman back out of his home. He used the fingers of his free hand to cup Nicolette’s chin, turning her face up towards him, and he leaned down and kissed her.

Sarah snarled in rage, but the sound faded into the background. Everything became a haze as he lost himself in the strangeness of their lips together. She was warm, and soft. She tasted like moonlight on the open sea, rocked by waves and the song of the stars. This was not his first kiss, but it was the first time that it stirred something unconventional in his chest. Holding her, touching her, feeling the muscles in her back seize with tension. It was different than any other woman he had been with. Different and strange.

Was this…was this what love was supposed to feel like?

He pulled back as Sarah stormed out of the apartment, calling out a threat that she would return over her shoulder, although the words were nothing more than distant wind. He looked down into Nicolette’s hazel eyes as they fluttered open, her blush deep and consuming the crests of her cheeks. There was something in her gaze that made him regret his actions, something lurking in the shadows that made him feel ashamed. He had been too brash. He released her, setting her down gently so that she didn’t lose her balance again, stepping back a respectable distance as confusion wound its way through the emptiness within him.

“I apologize. That was abrupt. I…I couldn’t think of any other way to make her leave.”

***

She was reeling. She was numb. Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t quite understand what had happened. Her lips tingled, trespassers on her own face, the blood in her cheeks pounding.

She didn’t want this.

“I’m sorry if I startled you.” He was staring at her, fear rising in his gaze as he waited for her response, and she gathered herself enough to speak.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” She didn’t want this.

He cleared his throat, his eyes shifting to the floor. “I’m sorry. There’s fruit on the counter, but I will need to leave you to eat breakfast on your own this morning. I would like to go meet with my father, but I will return as soon as I am able.”

She nodded. “Good luck.” She felt hollow again, the numbness spreading from her center outward, engulfing her limbs until she felt thick and wooden.

She watched him gather his things and leave, holding herself together just long enough to see the door close and the lock click in place. She leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor as her chest tightened around her heart, trapped in a strange world in strange clothes and none of it felt like her. She pulled out her phone, staring at it. She thought of all the people that she could talk to, all the people that she could call or text. In the end, it still came back to him, always came back to him. She unlocked the screen and flipped to Seven’s messages.

**Nicolette: Jumin kissed me.**

She let the phone hang limp in her hand, staring at nothing, trying to look through the wall and through the world to see what was behind it all, what cruel and heartless hand was moving the players across the board.  She hated everything. She hated her circumstances, she hated being trapped here, she hated what Jumin was going through and what it was doing to their friendship. She hated her professors and her school, and how badly they had failed her. She hated the lies spread about her online, and her own stupidity for hiding the truth that led Seven to the wrong opinions. She hated that she kept wanting to apologize for everything, even though deep down she knew she’d been given no other options. She hated that she still felt alone, no matter how many times Zen and Yoosung and Jaehee and even Jumin insisted that she wasn’t. She hated that Seven was gone.

She sat like that for a long time, longer than she should have, before she lifted her phone again, the cursor still blinking in the empty message box.

**Nicolette: Jumin just kissed me, and the only thing that I could think about was that I wanted it to be you.**

She closed the phone, refusing to cry, refusing to fall to pieces again. Instead she stood, walking to the couch and taking a seat, opening the long list of emails that she needed to answer for the party guests. The loneliness was all around her, but today she would ignore it, and maybe if she was lucky she would become numb enough that it would go away.


	30. Purple Suits Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zen's plan really doesn't go how he thought it would.

Yoosung watched as the light on his computer blinked on and off, the sleeping machine trying to beckon him over to play games. He sighed, rolling away from it, his arm over his eyes to block out the blue glow filling his room because the light was off and it made the case lights that much brighter.

He didn’t understand what had happened. He could follow the events, but they didn’t make sense. Like a game plot where the developers hadn’t hired any actual writers, so everything felt thrown in just to get to the big fights. No matter how many times he turned it over in his mind, he couldn’t believe that Seven hated Nicky for what had happened to her. She was such a good person, and he knew that they all felt the same. Seven more than most. Yoosung was sure that Seven had feelings for her beyond friendship, and he couldn’t believe all that had changed no matter what he had seen on her social media accounts. Yoosung wasn’t even sure he believed Seven would even look at those. How could a person go from lighting up when someone was around to telling them they never wanted to see them again?

Especially when she had still wanted him to stay. Even after he had been so cold, she had still begged him not to leave the RFA. He had never met anybody that forgiving.

_“They’ll never attend another party again. I’ll see to it that they aren’t invited to anything for the next year.” Her eyes flashed dangerously, and he recoiled from the sudden mood swing._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“A guest canceled. The day before the party.” She flipped through her phone, her fingers flying over the digital keys as she sent a response to someone._

_“Did they say why? I’m sure no one would cancel on you unless they had to!”_

_She sighed, looking up from her phone to meet his gaze, her eyes heavy with pity._ _“Oh Yoosung, you’re so naive sometimes. They claim they had to attend a friend’s sudden wedding, but I know an excuse when I see one.”_

_“Rika, maybe something else came up? Don’t you think you’re getting too worked up over it?”_

_She tossed her hair over her shoulder, tipping her chin into the air._ _“If you think so. I take it personally when people don’t come to the party. I work very hard to welcome them and ensure that everyone can come and have a good time.” She looked at him, frowning, pouting as she looked into his eyes. “I can’t help how I feel, Yoosung. It’s alright to be upset, isn’t it?”_

_“Of course!” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know if I understand, but if you need to be upset about it then you should be able to.”_

_She smiled, her face lighting up once more._ _“Thank you, Yoosung. You’re the best. You’re going to make a wonderful husband for some very lucky girl someday.” She leaned over, kissing his temple and ruffling his hair. “I should go, I need to let this person know that they shouldn’t have refused an invitation from me.”_

_“Oh…okay.”_

That day, he remembered that he had felt good about making her feel better, and as she had walked away he was just happy that she was smiling again. He had always thought she was so full of light, and that was part of why he had become attached to Nicky so quickly. They had seemed so similar at first…but when Rika got upset she got so angry, and she had always seemed to want to lash out. He had never thought much about it until he had seen Nicky in the chatroom, asking Seven to stay even after what he had said to her. He thought about all the times that Nicky could have been mad, but wasn’t. When V had first told her she was in danger, when the hacker had threatened her, when she found out she had been living with a bomb. She had been slighted in so many ways, but she still tried to stay positive, and she still kept trying to reach out to people to resolve the problems rather than cut ties and forget about it.

They really were very different.

He sat up, looking at his computer again. She was always trying to do something about anything that was wrong. She didn’t just sit around when she saw someone in pain, and she always did her best to fix things whenever she could. He admired that, and he should work harder to try and emulate it. He was tired of sitting around and doing nothing. Everything was falling apart, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He might be the only one who doubted the truth of the situation, and so he might be the only one who could fix it.

He reached across his bed, grabbing his phone and pulling up his contacts, flipping through until he got to the one he needed, RedRogue2. He opened the entry and pressed the call button, holding the phone to his ear and waiting impatiently for his friend to pick up.

“Yo! Is that itty bitty Yoosung giving me a ring?” the voice on the other end was exuberant.

“Hey, Jeong, I -”

“Ugh, don’t use my real name you square.”

He frowned into the receiver. “You just used mine!”

“So?” there was a titter on the other end, and Yoosung rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, alright? I need a favor. A big one.”

“Hm, and what could the great and terrible bus driver of LOLOL want with my meager skills?” Jeong sounded interested, so that was a start.

“Do you still know how to track a phone?”

“Hey, hey, hey now, I thought you meant in-game, my dude. What does a nice kid like you want with tracking down a phone? You lose yours? You better tell me it’s yours.”

“It’s not mine, but it’s important.” He crossed his fingers, praying that his friend wouldn’t refuse. Jeong could be finicky sometimes about helping others, especially if it involved something in the real world, beyond the safe confines of the bravado and make believe in the game they played together.

“You gonna give me that drop you got in the last raid?”

Yoosung gasped. “That’s a legendary! Do you know how many times I had to grind that boss to get that?!”

“Is this favor important or not?” Jeong chuckled.

“Fine! But this is highway robbery.” He sighed, trying to remind himself that if this worked it would be worth it. “Can you get here right away?”

“Yup, throwing on pants now.”

“Gross, you answer the phone with no pants on?”

“What, you sit around in pants all day?”

The both stayed silent, in shock at the other’s habits.

“Anyways, be there in ten little dude.” The click on the end signaled the end of the call, and Yoosung felt adrenaline rush through his system. This was going to work, it _had_ to. He would believe in the positive outcome, the same way Nicky did.

Hero Yoosung had finally found his calling, and he was determined to see it through.

***

The door opened and then slammed shut, and she jumped where she sat, nearly dropping her phone. She turned, leaning over the back of the couch as Jumin stormed into the apartment, his eyes full of dark clouds and misery.

“Are you alright?” she stood up, walking to the edge of the couch. Under any other circumstance she would have run over to him, given him a hug, but she hung back, her feet stuck in place as she remembered the kiss. The kiss she never wanted.

“My father is being unreasonable. He refuses to accept that I will not marry Sarah, and insists that I need to spend _time_ with her before I make my decision.” He ran his hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face. His neck was tense, his gaze distant. He was mired in emotions that she knew he didn’t know what to do with, and she wished that she knew what to say to ease the onslaught.

“I’m so sorry.” She was. Despite everything that had happened, she knew that it was only because of the stress and pain that he was under, and if they could just find a way to get him through it then he could return to his senses, to go back to the calm, confident, sneakily sarcastic man they all loved.

He took a deep breath, though it didn’t stop his fingers from trembling. “It’s alright. Please do not apologize for the faults of others.”

“Jumin…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so upset.” He drew in another breath, letting it out slowly as he closed his eyes. He stood like that for a handful of seconds, and when he opened his eyes again he had a tentative smile on his lips. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to enter so abruptly. I hope I haven’t frightened you.”

She shook her head, and her mouth was open to press him for more information, but the sound of shouting filtered in through the front door. _What now?_ She tilted her head, trying to listen, but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Stay here.” Jumin pivoted and walked back to the door, opening it and slipping out without another word. She took a few steps closer, trying to listen to what was going.

She heard the raised voices of a few men, and then Jumin’s stern tone floated over them, a current of surprise beneath it. She couldn’t make out the words, so it was difficult to understand what was going on. She took another step closer to the door. She heard another voice murmuring through the wall, and she was surprised to realize that she recognized it. Zen. What was he doing here? Jumin and Zen conversed back and forth for several beats, and then she heard Zen’s voice rise upward and she knew that he was starting to get frustrated with whatever was happening. Jumin rejoined, his volume booming. Then there was a pause, a rest in the strange measure of music, the calm before the crescendo, followed by a stampede of footsteps rushing to some point down the hall. Jumin shouted something else, Zen shouted back, and then someone stalked away from the apartment, stomping enough to make the walls rattle.

Not more than a second later the door opened, and Jumin strode in even angrier than he had the first time, walking to the kitchen. He opened his freezer and pulled out a bag of ice, placing it on his knuckles, which were turning red and purple, mottled across his pale skin. He winced as he touched the ice to them, and her heart plummeted into her feet, then deeper beyond, sinking into the bowels of the earth where it sank into the magma and burned.

“What happened?” she was quiet when she asked the question, because she didn’t want the answer. Without a doubt she knew she didn’t want the answer.

“Zen just payed us a visit.” His voice was icy, and she knew he was a chaotic blend of rage and fear, the storm back in his dark eyes. “He tried to take you away.”

“Jumin, I’m sure that’s not -”

“Did you call him?”

The question was sudden, abrupt, cutting through her own platitudes with deadly precision. She took a step back, her heart pounding hard enough to make her dizzy. “What?”

“Did you call him and ask him to come?” he advanced towards her, still holding his hand, small curls of mist lifting off the top of the ice as it started to melt. Something in his gaze was broken, some fundamental piece of his normal reason missing.

“No.” He took another step forward, and she stumbled backwards, bumping into the back of the couch. “Jumin, I swear I didn’t call him. I haven’t talked to him since last night.”

It was what he wanted to hear, and she saw the shadows fade a bit. The anger dissolved, but the fear, the aching desperation remained whenever he met her gaze. “Would you…would you show me?”

Her gut clenched, her knees shaking as she gripped the leather couch tighter. “What do you mean?”

“Can I look at your phone?” it wasn’t an order, but a plea. He needed it, and was begging her in the only way he knew how. His fingers shook around the ice pack, and he readjusted it, trying to calm them. She was scared. Scared of him, scared for him. She wanted to soothe the demons controlling his actions, but she was terrified that she didn’t know enough. She felt like one wrong move would send them both off the edge, hurtling into their despair and destroying each other on the way down.

She pulled her phone out of the pocket in the skirt, holding it as though it were a precious, delicate sculpture. She could say no. She could try to convince him to trust her, try to tell him that it was an invasion of privacy that she wouldn’t allow. When she looked at him, though, she had trouble mustering the words. It wasn’t just that she feared what he might do. She feared what it would mean to him to tell him no. He was obsessed with keeping her from vanishing, and while she couldn’t tell exactly what he meant, she had a feeling it had to do with the fact that everything he had held true up to this point had vanished. His best friend and his father had told him, through their actions, that they had never trusted him. V had refused to explain things even when it was revealed that he had been keeping huge, terrible secrets from everyone. Jumin’s father was insisting that he do something he didn’t want to do, refusing to accept Jumin’s judgment on his own life. Seven had turned around and disappeared, and because she had shown up like a stray dragged out of the rain Elizabeth the 3rd had been spooked enough to run away. He had so much that he was fighting with, and she could see it on his face. If she didn’t hand him her phone, she would be saying the same thing that everyone else in his life was saying. She would be telling him that she didn’t trust him, and no matter what she said or did after that, he would be convinced that she had betrayed him. As ludicrous as it was, as dangerous and insulting, she couldn’t bring herself to deny him, knowing what it would mean.

She held out her phone.

He took it, unlocking the screen, and she saw him go straight to the RFA app. Her ears were ringing as the blood rushed through her veins, heart thumping against her ribs. She watched his eyes move over the screen, and only then did she realize her mistake. She had thought there would be nothing incriminating, that she had been nothing but honest and genuine, and that whatever she had said would only serve to show her concern for him.

Except for the messages she had sent to Seven.

_Don_ _’t look at Seven, don’t look at Seven, don’t look at Seven…_

She had told him everything through messages that she had never expected to be answered. Truth that was more raw and bitter than she would want Jumin to see. She had told him that she was thinking about _him_ while Jumin had kissed her. What would it do to him to see that? _Please don_ _’t look at Seven._ Would he understand? Would he be hurt? It was all so confusing, and she couldn’t tell if he had feelings for her or if it was all just a desperate struggle for a distraction. _Don_ _’t look at Seven._ With Zen she had only said that she worried for him, with Yoosung she had said the same. Those threads would only show that she cared, and she would stand behind those words. _Don_ _’t look at Seven._ But her messages with Seven? Those were deeper. Those held more meaning to her, were more intimate. She had meant those words for Seven, and no one else, and Jumin would know it the minute he looked at them. That could be the mistake, the misstep that sent them tumbling into madness. _Don_ _’t look at Seven._

After an eternity he handed the phone back, and she took it with numb fingers. “You humor Yoosung too much. He’ll never grow up if we keep coddling his bad behavior.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” She let out the air that she had been holding in her lungs, wishing that she could sink to the floor and just lay there, staring at the ceiling until her heart stopped trying to burst out of her chest and flop away like a determined fish.

To her complete surprise he blushed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Thank you. I should not have asked that of you…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She hesitated, wondering if she should leave it, wondering is she should try to hide away and be seen as little as possible…but she couldn’t help it. He needed something, from someone, and she had to do her best to help him with that, no matter the risks. “You know that I trust you, right?”

He looked up, his eyes widening. “What…?”

“I trust you. I’m not going anywhere until you’re okay with it, okay?” she hadn’t known she meant it until she said it, but she did. She wasn’t planning on leaving until he asked her to, because he needed someone there right now. He needed a friend, whether he knew it or not, and she was happy that she got to fill that role. She would do her best to get him through all this, and pull them both out on the other side. Darkness couldn’t last forever…could it?

“Thank you.” His words were soft, forlorn, and the sincerest thing that he had spoken since he got home.

Then the moment broke, and he walked around the couch and sank into it, holding the ice to his hand and leaning his head back. She followed suit, not sure what else she should do, and let the silence between friends envelope her.

***

He had a hell of a right hook for a guy who grew up wearing dainty white gloves for every occasion. Zen winced, applying the icepack back to his eye, regretting that he hadn’t ducked a second sooner. Part of him wished he had gotten the chance to swing back, just to see the look on Jumin’s smug face when his fist smashed into it…he sighed, sinking further into the cushions of his couch. Nicky would have ripped him a new one if he had punched Jumin in the state that he was in now. It would have been one thing if it were a fair fight, but to beat the crap out of somebody going through what Jumin was - _even if he deserved it_ \- just wasn’t Zen’s style.

He picked up his phone, looking at it out of his left eye as he navigated the menus to pull up Nicky’s number. It rang several times before she finally answered, taking longer than normal, which automatically put him on edge.

“Hey, Zen.” She sounded tired, like she had been stretched thinner than any one person was ever meant to be.

He adjusted the ice pack over his eye. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Her words sounded bright, but he could hear the nerves beneath them. “I uh…are _you_ okay?”

“I take it Jumin mentioned our _disagreement?_ _”_

She laughed, although it was a bitter one. “Well, he was icing his hand when he got back, and you weren’t with him, so I could kind of put the pieces together. What were you thinking?” her last question was sorrowful, her concern real and tangible. _Damn._ He was supposed to be making her feel better, not giving her more things to worry about.

“I’m fine. Purple suits me.”

“Purple?! Oh for heaven’s sake, did you really get into a damn brawl?”

Zen sat up, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “He got in one good punch before his herd of goons interfered. It wasn’t even close to a brawl.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice broke around the apology, and he frowned into the phone.

“Why on earth are _you_ sorry?”

“I just…” she paused, and it was pregnant with tension. “I don’t like seeing you guys fight.”

“Are you really okay? Has anything happened?”

The moment of silence was profound before she answered. “No. Everything has been fine.”

His fingers tightened around the phone, and he let the icepack fall from his face. “Look, if he’s hurt you, just tell me, I’ll fight through all those damn guards right now -”

“No! Really, Zen. Listen to me carefully.” She took a deep breath, the timbre to her voice strange and lackluster. “Things are much better when no one is trying to interfere.”

“What are you talking about? Interfere with what, him keeping you prisoner? Look, Nicky, if this is about Seven -”

“Zen, things are _much better_ when no one is trying to interfere.” The stress on the words gave him pause, and his heart sank as he finally absorbed what she was telling him without actually telling him. She _was_ scared, he could hear it in every word, every breath. Still, she couldn’t exactly tell him, because Jumin was probably right there in the room with her. For all Zen knew, Jumin could be hurting her, or forcing her into situations she didn’t want to be in. He couldn’t imagine Jumin being that kind of guy, but had also never thought Seven would turn out to be some victim blaming slime ball. Maybe his judge of character was off.

_Things are much better when no one is trying to interfere._ What did better mean? He had a horrible feeling that he knew, though he didn’t want to think about it. The Jumin that he had met in the hallway had been crazed, terrified of unseen horrors that lurked in every corner, flipping out over the slightest suggestion that differed from his plan. Zen had only asked if he could take Nicky out for coffee, and to Jumin that had been equated to carrying her off and launching her into space. He had thought the worst to come out of the encounter was the black eye gracing half of his face, but now that he talked to her he realized that his rash actions could have put her in danger. If Jumin was unstable enough to swing at him, who knew what he could be doing to Nicky.

“Okay. I understand, I won’t interfere. What can I do to help them?”

She shifted on the other end of the line, taking a deep breath. “He’s under a lot of stress, between what’s happening with the RFA, Elizabeth the 3rd going missing, and the upcoming party. He is very strong, but I think it’s a lot for anyone to handle. I feel like Jumin would feel much safer if Sarah weren’t around.” She stressed that sentence, enunciating the syllables in the words more than the others. “I think he would be able to relax much more if we could find a way to convince her to leave him alone.”

He heard a deep voice rumble something in the room with her, and her voice was fainter as she pulled away from the phone. “I’m talking to Zen, yelling at him about coming over like that.” Jumin said something else that Zen couldn’t hear. “No, you heard me correctly. Do you trust me?” another murmured bass sentence, garbled through the line. “Then trust them too. If you can’t get your father to see reason, maybe we can get Sarah out of the picture another way.” Jumin said one thing further, and Nicky sighed, returning to full volume as she turned back to the call. “I should get going. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. I’ll do what I can to help. Stay safe?”

“I will.” She said it, but he could tell she didn’t mean it. The line clicked and went silent, and he closed the call and pulled up his messages with Jaehee without missing a beat.

**ZEN: Hey, I just talked to Nicky**

**Jaehee: How is she? Were you able to get through to Jumin?**

**ZEN: Not so much -_-**

**ZEN: All I really accomplished was a black eye.**

**Jaehee: OH MY GOD**

**Jaehee: Sweet, merciful** **…are you okay?**

**Jaehee: Don** **’t you have an audition this afternoon? Please tell me you’re icing it. Should I call a doctor?**

**ZEN: Whoa, settle down. I** **’m icing it, and I’ll just have to audition with the eye.**

**ZEN: Maybe it will make me look ruggedly handsome ;)**

**Jaehee: Oh. That** **’s…that could be lovely.**

**Jaehee: Don** **’t distract me! So you’re telling me he punched you?**

**ZEN: Yep. Don** **’t ask Nicky out for coffee any time soon, it won’t go well.**

**Jaehee: He won** **’t even let her out for that? The party is tomorrow, is he intending on letting her go?**

**ZEN: No idea. Maybe if he** **’s accompanying her he thinks it’s okay?**

**Jaehee: This is a disaster**

**Jaehee: I** **’m standing here supervising the creation of fliers for a cat**

**Jaehee: Jumin is punching you in the face**

**Jaehee: Seven is** **…I don’t even know what to say about him.**

**Jaehee: Nicky is locked in my boss** **’s apartment**

**Jaehee: and I** **’m so tired I feel like I’m going to be asleep on my feet at the party**

**ZEN: You need a vacation.**

**Jaehee: wouldn** **’t that be nice**

**ZEN: We should just run away to a tropical island, get away from it all**

She didn’t type anything for several heartbeats, and he was too jittery to wait for the response, so he sent another reply.

**ZEN: In any case, Nicky said something that bothered me.**

**ZEN: I think she might be in danger with how unstable Jerk Lord is right now**

**ZEN: But she basically told me that if we can get rid of Sarah somehow then we might be able to help calm him down**

**Jaehee: -_- how are we supposed to do that?**

**ZEN: I was thinking**

**ZEN: this chick** **’s obviously got it out for his money bags or something like that, right? She’s not just hot under the collar for repeated rejection, right?**

**Jaehee: I wouldn** **’t think so, no.**

**ZEN: So she has ulterior motives. I bet if we look hard enough we can find them, and use them to talk Han senior out of this marriage**

**Jaehee: Hm.**

**Jaehee: It** **’s a good plan. I can see what I can do to dig up information.**

**Jaehee: Luciel would have been much better suited for this -_-**

**ZEN: Well we don** **’t have him.**

**ZEN: Let me know if there** **’s anything I can do to help, okay?**

**Jaehee: I will, thank you.**

**ZEN: And Jaehee** **…Jumin isn’t bothering you, is he?**

**Jaehee: Me? O.o**

**ZEN: Yeah. I mean, you** **’re being safe, right? You’re not in danger?**

**Jaehee: Oh, you don** **’t need to be concerned about me.**

**ZEN: But I *am* concerned about you.**

**Jaehee: ^^**

**Jaehee: He has been more tense than normal, but otherwise his decorum remains the same at work.**

**Jaehee: he snapped at me once when I asked after Nicky, but nothing else.**

**ZEN: What a jerk >.<**

**ZEN: Let me know if he keeps it up, I can go throw the other half of my face at his fist for you.**

**Jaehee: !!!**

**Jaehee: Please do not harm your face further! Your career could suffer, and I could never forgive myself!!**

**ZEN: I can make the sacrifice when necessary.**

**ZEN: Well, I should probably get going, and let you get back to work.**

**ZEN: stay safe, and message me later tonight to let me know if you found anything**

**Jaehee: I will, goodbye Zen, and good luck with your audition~~**

He dropped his phone, picking the ice up and putting it back on his tender eye. He hoped the swelling was minimal, although when he had walked past the mirror it had already been turning such a deep purple it was sinking toward true black. He could try to put on makeup before he left, but he didn’t have a lot of time. It was already almost two, and he had to be there in an hour.

Hopefully it was a casting call for a tall, stupid man with a big, black eye. It was the only way he was getting it, at this point.


	31. The Promise of Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven enters the building.

It had taken another few hours before the cloaked figure finally emerged from the door again, letting it click shut behind them as they worked their way back around the side path, towards the front door. He scrambled to grab his binoculars from where he had set them, zooming in to try and get a look at the face of the person beneath the hood. The folds of the fabric did their job well, and the gloom surround their face too deeply, so that couldn’t make out any features. The only thing that was not covered was a single strand of long, golden hair curling out of the shadows, a ray of sunlight shooting through the dark. He watched until they walked back into the building, and then stared at the spot where they had disappeared.

He glanced at his watch, marking the time, and then waited. The minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace, but he had to be patient, he had to be sure no one else was going to come or go. At the fifteen minute mark he got up, turning around beneath the boughs of his bush to pull his laptop out of the bag. He pulled up the command window and typed in the start codes for the program, sending out the onslaught of algorithms that would disable the security system for as long as it was able. Then he snapped his laptop shut, stuffed it into his bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

He hesitated for a second, letting himself breathe, letting himself scan the area one more time to make sure nothing was moving. All was still, the mountainside back to the same abandoned state that it had existed in for the majority of the time he had been there. Everything was in place, so there was nothing left but to move forward.

He stood up, pushing aside branches as he rushed from the edge of the woods, running at full tilt towards the door. His bag slammed against his back as he went, a drum beat of urgency, until he skidded to a halt in front of the side door, his breath scattered in his lungs as the cold air shocked his system. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the door and pulled, and to his great relief the system interruption had worked, and the electronic lock had been disabled. He could hear whirs and clicks as the small machine attempted to reactivate, so he knew that he didn’t have a lot of time before the main locks would correct the loops that he had created. The automated system was better than he anticipated. His brother had improved.

He took a deep breath and descended the stairwell beyond the door.

It clicked shut behind him with a soft puff of air, the hinges silent so that it sounded like a sigh rather than a door. He was plunged into relative darkness, as there were no lights on the low ceiling above his head, only a few dim reflectors lining the bottoms of the walls. He gave his eyes a second to adjust to the sudden change, and when he felt confident enough that he wouldn’t crash into something he started moving forward again, taking the steps two at a time as quietly as he could manage. He reached the bottom and was faced with a long hallway, branching into two directions about twenty feet ahead of his position. He hugged the wall as he moved forward, trying to pull up the mental image of the map that he had memorized and orient it to the direction from which he had entered. If he was correct, the two passages would head south and east, respectively. If he was correct, the room he was looking for would be to the east. If he was correct, Saeran would be there.

He peered around the corner, checking to make sure there weren’t guards or something equally nefarious lying in wait for him. It was empty. At the end of the hall there was a thick metal door, another electronic lock on the outside of it, a red dot of light blinking just above the keys. There was thick tubing on the ceiling leading into a large hub above the door, curving out of a square cut into the ceiling.

He shuffled into the hallway, taking long strides until he reached the door at the end. The red light on the lock glared at him, pulsing rapidly, and he knew his algorithm was almost at its end. He grabbed the handle on the door and turned it, relieved that it still twisted all the way. He waited a second, listening for any change on the other side, for any indication that anyone had heard the metal click of the door or had realized that someone was poking around in their system. The only sound he could detect was the steady thrum of machinery, laboring away at whatever tasks had been left to them.

He opened the door.

The room beyond was lit with the soft glow of a dozen monitors, each displaying different programs and functions. Some of them were flashing urgent warnings that the video feed was malfunctioning, so he knew the cameras were still disabled. Based on the loading bars the programs were displaying, he had another five minutes before he would have to input new algorithms to disable them again. He pulled out his laptop, hooking it into one of the computer towers piled on the floor. He tapped out the command to start transferring the data from the system as he looked around the room, feeling claustrophobic in the cramped space

There was a sparse metal desk along the wall, and a chair whose fabric looked like it might have been gnawed on by rats at some point. A half empty mug of coffee sat on the desk, the contents most likely cold since he didn’t see any steam rising into the chilly air. A stack of books sat next to it, some of them resembling manuals, while others looked like they had been bound by hand, the text on the spines stamped on with sloppy ink. _Magenta: The Promise of Paradise. Mint Eye. Protocol 6._ He picked up the book promising paradise, the word sticking in his head as he remembered how Saeran had talked about it in the apartment. The logo of the eye, the same one Nicky had said was in her email, was burned into the front of it, glaring up at him with malice. He flipped to a random page in the middle, his frown deepening the further he read.

“ _As we each have learned through our own personal trials, the world is sick. Humanity is sick. Our minds and hearts fester with emotions and feelings that we cannot control, the weak among us lashing out to harm and maim our fellows when it becomes too much to bear. The pain we endure at the dawn of each day is not a blessing. This life that has been forced upon us is not the divine will of a benevolent god. We suffer, endlessly, searching for the light of a sun that will not shine, mewling in the darkness with only vague promises of release. We are punished for our sins and our virtues in equal measure, and the disease that scars our souls grows more virulent each day._

_The answer to this problem is order. Provide chains, and the rabid beast cannot lash out. Provide structure, and the fear of doubt cannot fester in the mind. Provide stability, and the path cannot crumble beneath the feet of the downtrodden. Through the iron will of the strong, the weak can be saved, they can be protected. It is the creed that we must cling to, the creed that will drive us to bring paradise to fruition, snatching it away from the hands of a blind god and his irresponsible whims. We rise each day and drink the blood of hope, and through it we gain faith in our purpose, faith unshakable by the hindrances of consciousness. Through that faith we can construct our order. We can craft the chains, the structure, and the stability the world needs. Through the seed of our faith we will build paradise, and bind the world into it, providing peace eternal to mankind at last._ _”_

He shut the book, setting it back on the desk as though it were a filthy rag, full of venom and putrid waste that could taint him just by holding it. What kind of organization was this? What kind of poison had been stuffed into Saeran’s mind? He felt like he was going to be sick. He had never expected to find his sweet, kind little brother entangled in some kind of cult. A cult with terrifying ideas, by the sound of it.

Tucked out of sight behind the larger stack of books was a small, unmarked book, wrapped in black leather. He reached over and picked it up next, selecting another random page in the middle. This one was handwritten, in a frantic script that was difficult to read, the shape of the letters erratic and chaotic. It only took him a couple lines to know who had written it.

“ _Her light blesses us. I am so grateful that she saved me. The only one who would, the only one who could._

_I_ _’ve learned enough now, she thinks. She thinks I am ready. She’s promised revenge. I hope that I get to hurt him. I hope that I get to watch him suffer. I will rise to paradise, and he will die in the dark, where he belongs. Filthy, lying bastard. He deserves to rot. He deserves to have everything taken from him, like he took everything from me._

_The_ _Savior’s light will never touch him.”_

Tears burned at the back of his eyes, and he had to shut them for a moment and breathe deeply. It was Saeran. He was so full of anger, so full of hatred. What had happened to him? What had Rika and V told him after he had joined the agency? Had they ever even talked to him at all? He opened his eyes and flipped to another page, the vitriol no less violent.

_“The Savior believes that mother’s heart was sick, and that was why she only ever loved Saeyoung. If we work to make paradise, mother wouldn’t have to be sick anymore. She would be given order, and then she would be happy. I don’t know if I want mother in paradise with me, but I will not question the Savior. She is the light that will guide us through the darkness, as bright as the sun. She saved me, so I will do anything for her._

_She promised that those too sick to be saved would be punished. We will punish them together. V and Saeyoung will pay. They will never taste hope, or paradise._ _”_

V? So Saeran had met him at some point. Or met someone who knew him and held a grudge against him. His heart felt like it had crumbled into dust as he realized that meant V would have known about this organization. His stupid, blind eyes must have seen what was happening, at least on some level. How long? How long had he known that Saeran had been down here, festering with this cult as it shoveled hateful drivel down his throat? _Son of a bitch._ He flipped to another page, not wanting to see more but unable to stop himself, unable to halt the insatiable need to be closer to his brother by whatever means he had available.

_“She had shadows in her eyes, but also light. I liked the way they danced together. So innocent. I failed to bring her to paradise. She’s trapped with that lying bastard, and he is no doubt feeding her false information. She is blinded. I wish that I had thrown her out the window, so that she could have been saved.”_

He was talking about Nicky. The tears poured over the rims of his eyes as he thought of her, reading the words that his brother wrote in her regard. It really was all his fault. Everything that had happened to her was because he was stupid enough to believe his brother was safe and happy. Instead he had been rotting in a tomb of his own anger, hating the world because Seven had left him. Because Saeyoung had left him. He wanted to close the book. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He read on.

_“When I looked at her, I remembered the time I snuck to the window, to look at the stars after he had abandoned me like garbage. I was still a hopeful fool, and he had always told me to look up when it got hard. The stars were so pretty. Mother beat me so badly when she found me, and I had tried to think of the stars before I blacked out. It was nice, before I knew it was all worthless. She had that in her eyes, though. It was nice to see it again. I’m sad that it’s all still worthless.”_

He couldn’t handle anymore, and he snapped the book shut, clutching it to his chest as he tried to remember how to breathe. Saeran…Nicky. _What have I done to you?_ He had failed everyone so badly. After reading his words, he had no idea what he was going to say to Saeran anymore. He had been lied to. They had both been victims of secrets, of the truth being hidden for reasons unknown. How long had Saeran stayed with their mother? He could have been trapped there for years, possibly until he had turned eighteen. Seven tried to picture what it must have been like, left behind in that hell hole, and it broke his heart. Saeran would never forgive him, and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be forgiven. The only thing he could do was try to atone for his negligence, atone for the mistake of trusting someone he had thought was his friend. That he had thought was the closest thing he would ever have to a father. He would do his best to at least set Saeran free, or he would die trying. There was no other option.

The soft puff of air behind him was his only warning that he was no longer alone, and he froze as the icy voice filled the room with a bitter whisper.

“Hello, Saeyoung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all like cliffhangers, right? :3


	32. Too Far Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky has a bad feeling.

She had her phone open, the Kindle app lighting up the screen, but any time she tried to focus on the words in front of her they blurred together, becoming a jumble of squiggly lines that she couldn’t comprehend. She felt like she was suffocating, like something had wrapped ribbons around her throat and was pulling them tighter by the minute. Her head and heart felt empty; meaningless extensions of herself that had been hollowed out to make room for the strange emptiness that crowded inside of her. Nervousness throttled through her veins, but she felt disconnected from it. She had been like this since she had gotten off the phone with Zen, slowly collapsing inward, trying not to show it so that Jumin wouldn’t be disturbed. She couldn’t breathe. Where was the air? Where had all the air gone?

She stood up, flashing a fake smile at Jumin before walking down the hall to the restroom, pushing the door shut behind her. The mirror threw her face back out at her: average, unremarkable, and strange to behold at the moment. She didn’t _look_ like she was dying. She looked just the same as she always had. As she studied her own face she couldn’t even tell that there was a voice in the back of her head, screaming at full volume, the pitch and pulse increasing with each beat of her heart until it would drive her insane. She ran the water in the sink, scooping up handfuls and splashing them onto her face, praying that the cold rivers on her skin would reset her system. She wanted her heart to stop racing, she wanted her thoughts to stop tumbling around.

She took a deep breath, but she didn’t feel like there was any air in the world anymore, and certainly none left in her lungs. No matter what she did, no matter how she tilted her head or tried to distract herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was happening. Something awful, something unspeakable. The apartment was perfectly quiet, Jumin absorbed in a book on the couch, seated next to where she had been sitting a moment ago. The fish tank filled the room with an aquatic thrum, and not a thing was amiss. So why did her stomach feel like it was trying to crawl out of her? Why did she feel like the most awful things imaginable were happening and she couldn’t do a thing to stop them? Doom had settled around her shoulders, perched like a great vulture, claws sinking into her skin. It was too heavy.

She gripped the edge of the sink, gasping as she tried to draw in another breath. It wouldn’t come. Her throat felt like it was a millimeter wide, and nothing was getting through it. She turned away from the mirror, hating the way her face was turning red, hating the way her pupils looked like empty starving holes in the middle of her eyes. She grabbed the door handle, walking back out into the hall, but after only a few steps she felt like the room had started spinning, knocking her off balance. She leaned against the wall, trying to breathe, trying to think, trying to make the world tilt back to where it was supposed to be. Everything felt _wrong._ Something was _wrong_ and she didn’t know what or where or who or how but she _knew,_ without a doubt, that it was something that would destroy her, tear her apart into smaller and smaller pieces until even her atoms were gone. Emptiness gaped inside her chest, a savage beast of shadow and terror opening its maw and swallowing her whole. She was was alone, and everything was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, _wrong. Alone, still alone._ She was becoming more alone by the second, everything drifting further away, too late to reach out and grasp. Perhaps her shadows had finally grown too much for her, the storm too strong. There was no sky left in her eyes.

Somewhere in her mind she registered that Jumin had stood, folding his book on the corner of the couch and rushing to her side. _I don_ _’t want this._ He reached his hand out, placing it on her shoulder.

“Are you okay? Nicolette? What’s wrong?”

_I don_ _’t want this, I should be somewhere else._ “I don’t know.” Her chest was heaving, rolling up and down as though an ocean in an apocalyptic gale. Her lungs were pumping, but her brain was still screaming for oxygen. _Empty._

Jumin placed his hand on her cheek. “Nicolette, it’s alright. Breathe. Breathe and tell me what’s wrong.”

_Everything_ _’s wrong. Everything’s gone, or leaving. I’m alone._

She tried to breathe, but all that came in was a broken gasp, and it tumbled back out as a strangled sob. “Something’s wrong…I can’t breathe, I’m…I’m empty and alone.” How could she articulate the void? How could she speak of the abyss that beckoned her into darkness?

He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly. “You’re not alone.” _No._ “You’ll never be alone.” _No, please._ “I’m here, and I’ll never leave you alone.”

The tears flooded from her eyes, and she had no control. She couldn’t breathe enough to speak, she couldn’t think enough to signal to him that this was not what she needed, not what she wanted. He searched her gaze, and she searched his, and for a moment they were the same, two people clinging to each other, desperately trying to figure out how to help, how to stop the insanity from taking the other. She could see how badly he wanted to help, how badly he wanted to take her pain away. They were balanced on a scale, each one trying to remove the darkness from the other’s side, but what they couldn’t see was that they were only shuffling around in the same shadows. Neither of them was light enough to guide the other’s way.

She saw the moment that he made the decision, saw the set of his jaw and the flush across his cheeks. She wanted to stop it, but she was powerless against the crushing weight of the nameless terror that chased her. She could do nothing as he leaned forward, putting his lips on hers.

She closed her eyes, tears slipping out in heavier streams, paralyzed. _Wrong one. You_ _’re the wrong one._ Jumin pressed the kiss further, leaning into her so that she was flat against the wall. She felt sick. She didn’t want this. She wanted Seven, even after everything that had happened, even if he hated her, all she wanted was Seven. She knew she could never have him, but it was too late, her heart had already left her and disappeared in his smile. If she couldn’t have him then she preferred no one. She didn’t want anyone else.

She didn’t want this.

Jumin’s arms pressed around her and the world faded to a deeper black. Her mind reeled, and for a moment she was back there, in the tiny music room that kept growing smaller, hands all over her that made her skin crawl. Jumin tried to devour her, his desperation to help her mingling with his desperation to ease his own strain, until the line disappeared and there was only need that remained. Hands on her waist, tongue on her lips, breath in her throat that wasn’t hers and wasn’t wanted. The present and the past merged, and she was trapped in a loop of broken promises, the intentions losing meaning as the consequences were the same.

Jumin’s hand slipped down to her hip, and she lost her grasp on reality, tearing her face away. “Professor, no!”

Her cry rang in the air, the hollow peal of a broken bell.

He backed away from her as though she had hit him, clapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes filled with pain. She hadn’t meant that…she hadn’t meant to shout that, but her brain had trapped her in her own damaged history. With her words she has stuck a knife in his back. It was beyond her control, but she wished she could take it back, to rewind the moment and remember how to breathe, to step away before the need to save her had broken them both.

“Nicolette, oh god…I’m so sorry!” he backed away, tears filling the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to be _that_ …”

She could see, without a doubt, with painfully vivid clarity, that he was nothing like her professor. The remorse in his gaze was enough to stab her through the chest, her whole body aching as she watched the agony wash over him in waves. He had only been doing what he thought would help.

He turned away from her, grabbing his coat and walking out the door without another word, fleeing from the scene to nurse his wounds, to bandage his pride, to wallow in guilt. She wanted to say something to him, anything, but there were no words. The only thing she wanted to tell him was that she didn’t want him, and that would only pour fuel on the fire.

She fell to the floor, unable to be angry, unable to be resentful, unable to be anything but tears and emptiness. It couldn’t be real. Everything that had happened in the last two days couldn’t be real. She couldn’t possibly be so alone.

She pulled out her phone, opening the RFA app and pulling up Seven’s contact information again. She hit the call button, her fingers shaking, her whole being trembling so badly that her bones would grind to powder at any moment. He didn’t pick up, and an electronic voice asked her to record a message. As soon as it beeped the floodgates opened, and everything that she needed to say to him came rushing out.

“I miss you. I miss you so _damn_ much. I miss your jokes and your laugh. I miss your glares too, and all the times you were so sad. I miss trying to cheer you up. Even though I wasn’t very good at it, I miss having the chance to try.” She sniffed, trying to breathe, trying to make sense even though she couldn’t, because nothing in this world made sense anymore. “Jumin’s lost his mind. I’m trapped here and I think he’s going to hurt me or himself or both of us if we can’t figure out a way to get me out of here. I don’t know how to help him because I’m a disaster. All I can think about is you. Every time I blink I see your face, every time I hear my phone go off I pray that it’s you. I can’t believe that I’ll really never get to see you again. I can’t believe that I kept that stupid secret and let it ruin everything! I wish I could take it back! I wish that I had never existed!” She clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the violent sobs crashing through her chest. She heard the door open, and she sucked in a breath, forcing herself to come down, forcing herself steady even though she knew she was bent beyond recognition. “He’s back.”

Jumin strode in, his face a mask of calm that she knew was a lie. “Nicolette, I…who are you calling?”

She looked at her screen, tapping the disconnect button before he could see Seven’s picture. “Jaehee called. She wanted some information about the party.”

He nodded, accepting it. She wasn’t sure that he really believed it, but he would not press the matter now. “You’re crying.”

She nodded, because there was no point in trying to hide it from him.

He knelt down, sitting next to her with his back against the wall. “I apologize. I’m sorry if I…if I hurt you in any way.” He wasn’t looking at her, and she didn’t mind. Watching his face fall as he spoke the words was painful enough, she didn’t want to see the damage in his eyes. “I’ll do better. I’ll do better to be worthy of you.”

She didn’t say anything. She let her head fall back against the wall, staring out into the middle of the room, and Jumin mirrored her position. Two people so mired in their own misery that they couldn’t help the other. They were both drowning, and they were both stealing the air from each other, driving each other closer to the end. Every time they reached out, every time they tried to stitch their pieces back together, the desperation and the madness ruined it. Jumin was going to fixate on her, and push her, and at some point she wouldn’t have the strength to tell him no any longer. She would be too far gone, too lost to be able to deny him whatever comfort she could give. The storm would swallow the sky, and there would be nothing left of her to save.

The worst part was that they both knew it, but neither of them could stop the cycle now that it had begun.


	33. It's About Damn Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have finally reached the turning point of the story. :D

His eyes were slits of blue, the sky trapped behind shutters, blocked from the light. Saeran glared at him, fists clenched as they hung at his sides.

“So, how did you get in here?”

Seven dropped the book, wishing he could drop the hateful words that were in it just as easily. “I came for you. I’m getting you out of here.”

Saeran recoiled, leaning away from him, wrapping his arms around himself. “Don’t touch me!” their proximity seemed to light a fuse somewhere in his mind, and Saeran’s voice rose to hysterical new heights. “How dare you come here! How dare you corrupt this sacred place!”

“Please, Saeran, let me just talk to you!” he took a step forward, wishing he could bridge the gap between them, to pull him into his arms and promise that he would erase the past, that they could start over.

“What could you possibly have to say? What kind of lies do you want to spout now?!”

Tears were blurring the back of his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. “I never meant to leave you. V and Rika…they promised that if I joined the agency it would leave enough money for you, and they would get you out right away.”

“Lies!” Saeran screamed the word, trembling like a mongrel dog, starving and backed into a corner. “You abandoned me. You left me to her, and she tried to kill me because of it. Do you know how much she beat me trying to find out where you were? Do you know how many days I went without food? Water? Sleep? _Do you even care?_ _”_

He stepped forward again, even as the words wound themselves around him, barbed and jagged, dragging wounds across his heart. “Please. You’re my brother, I gave up everything to help you…”

“You gave up nothing!” Saeran slashed the air with his hand, shaking his head violently. “You lived a comfy, easy life. Throwing parties with your stupid friends. You ran away and left me to rot. Poor, weak Saeran. Better to forget about him, right?” tears filled the blue in his gaze, sorrow and anger that had piled up for years, spilling out with reckless abandon. “All your promises, all of it was lies. I was left to die in the dark so that you could escape without me.”

Seven’s own tears flowed down his cheeks. They were both crying, two mirrors of different emotions, one the paragon of rage and one the sentinel of heartbreak. Two halves of the same heart, unable to rejoin because years of pain had covered the break with poison. Seven took another step forward, praying that by the time he closed the inches between them he would be able to get through to him. Praying that his brother was still in this angry, shivering husk. 

“No! I loved you! They promised me…V promised…”

“V! V! V, V, V, V! He’s a filthy traitor! A liar, just like you! He never kept his promises to the Savior, he never kept his promises to anyone!”

Seven blinked, trying to string meaning together with the rant that he had just heard. “What? I don’t understand…please, help me understand.” He took another step forward. He was looking into his brother’s eyes, pleading with his gaze, begging him to slow down and talk things through. If he could just explain everything, if they could just relate to each other again, then everything would be okay. He would make Saeran see the truth of it, and even if he never forgave him, he would at least have a chance of getting him out of this pit of despair. _Please, little brother_ _…_

Saeran shrieked, and while Seven saw him take the swing towards his gut, he didn’t see the knife clutched in his fist. He felt white hot, sharp pain slice through his middle, the fabric of his shirt ripping loudly over the sudden thundering in his ears. He looked down and watched as red starting rolling down his abdomen, a long cut dragged diagonally across his stomach. He doubled over as the reeling pain hit him, nausea driving him to his knees as he clutched the wound. His blood slid through his fingers, dripping to the ground in crimson rivers.

He looked up at his brother, and Saeran was gaping at his hand, the blood from the knife covering his palm. His eyes were wide with shock and horror. The blade slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor, too loud in the silence between them. Saeran lifted his hand to his face, holding it to his cheek as though hit with a sudden dizzy spell. He didn’t seem to realize he was smearing Seven’s blood all over him.

“Saeran…”

Saeran gasped, choking in a ragged, horrible breath, and then he turned and opened the door, running out of the room without another word. Seven held his hand out as he watched him go, wishing he could extend it, wishing he could reach him, wishing he could touch the stars. The door swung shut, and the lock clicked in place, the punctuation on his final failure. 

He stood, stumbling to his feet and lurching towards the door, one hand pressed against his stomach. His blood was warm against his palm. He grabbed the handle, turning and pushing, but the door wouldn’t budge. The locks had reactivated. He could probably hack them again, but what was the point? He staggered over to the desk, sinking onto the floor beneath it, curling in on himself. He could see the trail of blood behind him, and he watched the little splotches spread against the ground.

He didn’t have the energy to care. He didn’t have the strength to continue. He had failed everyone. He had failed at everything he had ever tried to do. Now he was going to die, knowing that he could never correct the mistakes. His whole life had been nothing but mistakes. He had been a mistake.

He dug around in his pocket, fishing out his phone. He had to wipe the blood off his fingers before he could unlock it, but he managed. He stared at the home screen for a minute, unsure of what he wanted to do with his last few hours. It wouldn’t be long before he bled to death. He didn’t care enough to try and stem the flow or wrap the wound. It didn’t have to be fatal, but it might as well be. He hated himself too much to live anymore.

He pulled up the pictures stored in his phone, scrolling through until he got to her selfies. God, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Every time he looked at her, she became more gorgeous, more bright. He had done nothing but break her down, make her feel awful and miserable. He looked at the picture of her hanging upside down on the couch, her face so full of laughter. She didn’t deserve what he had done to her. Her pain wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it to let her think that something was wrong with her. He had gone too far to accomplish what he wanted, and she deserved to know the truth. It wouldn’t absolve him of his guilt, it wouldn’t make up for his failures, but at least he could correct this one, last mistake.

He brought up the special launch program he had installed on his phone, typing in the commands to download the app again from the RFA server. He could do this one last thing. He would message her and apologize, tell her how sorry he was for pushing her away, how much he had hated being so cold. It was selfish, but now that he had reached his end he knew that it was the only thing he wanted out of his life. He wanted her to know how much he cared about her, and how she had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He needed her to know that, before it was over.

His phone dinged, announcing the completion of the installation. A fraction of a second later a notification bar popped up on his screen declaring that he had a handful of messages from Nicky, and a voicemail. He shook his head, grinning. Even after all he’d done, she had still tried to reach out to him. _Stubborn, wonderful girl_ _…_

He opened the app and flipped to the messages first, saving the voicemail for last because he wanted to savor the sound of her voice. He would listen to it on repeat until he finally blacked out, so that he could pretend that she was there with him in the end.

Her messages were like a slap in the face. A cold, brutal wake up call that brought the world into sharp focus. What a fool he had been. What a stupid, idiotic fool. _Jumin kissed me, and the only thing that I could think about was that I wanted it to be you._ The idea of Jumin touching her, of him putting his hands or lips anywhere near her, made Seven want to scream. He had known that it was a possibility, but he had never imagined that it would be like that…he had never imagined that she would wish it was him.

She was so sad, her words distraught, and still she was thinking of him, the same way he had been thinking of her. He hadn’t pushed her away, just as he hadn’t been able to shut out his own feelings towards her. They were the same, drawn together and unable to break the hold, trapped pining for each other because he had been too stupid to realize what had happened. She couldn’t hate him because of what he did, just as he could never forget her no matter how far into darkness he fell. He had thought that he was making the noble sacrifice, thought he was doing what was best for her, but all he had done was increase her suffering by tenfold. He had really fucked this up.

He tapped over to the voicemail, praying that it held less dire meaning.

“I miss you. I miss you so _damn_ much.” The second he heard her voice he knew that she was crying, and he ached to hold her, to promise her that he would never let her drop this far into despair again. _I miss you too._ “I miss your jokes and your laugh. I miss your glares too, and all the times you were so sad. I miss trying to cheer you up. Even though I wasn’t very good at it, I miss having the chance to try.” Tears flowed down his cheeks, his hands shaking. _Nicky_ _…_ “Jumin’s lost his mind. I’m trapped here and I think he’s going to hurt me or himself or both of us if we can’t figure out a way to get me out of here. I don’t know how to help him because I’m a disaster. All I can think about is you. Every time I blink I see your face, every time I hear my phone go off I pray that it’s you. I can’t believe that I’ll really never get to see you again.” _I can_ _’t let that happen._ “I can’t believe that I kept that stupid secret and let it ruin everything!” _You didn_ _’t, I did._ “I wish I could take it back! I wish that I had never existed!” _Never!_ The idea of her never existing, of her feeling like she shouldn’t be in the world, it was too much. He heard her muffled sobs, distant on the other end of the line, and he knew that he couldn’t let this stand. He couldn’t give up if this was the world that he would leave behind, if this was the damage that would be his legacy. He heard a door open on the other end of the line, and she sucked in a breath, a shuddering gasp that cut straight through him. “He’s back.” She sounded like she was shutting down in those last two words, her voice flat, but he could still hear the fear, could still hear the terrible loneliness that he had instilled in her. He heard Jumin’s low voice, demanding to know who she was calling, and then the line clicked dead.

She had left him that message ten minutes ago. Right at this moment, the tears she had shed for him would still be drying on her face. Right at this moment, she was still missing him, and still wishing that she didn’t exist. Enough. He could bear it no more.

He groaned as he stood, the pain in his middle an inferno spreading from the edges of the wound and engulfing him. He took off his jacket, ripping out part of the lining and wrapping it tightly around his stomach, stemming the tide of the blood and putting enough pressure on it to hold himself together. He would survive, because he had to. He had to get out and do what he should have done from the beginning, what he should have done from the very moment he met her. He wouldn’t give up, because her safety, her happiness, her beautiful light was worth so much more than his stupid life. For whatever reason, she wanted him there. She missed him, and he was done fighting it. He stumbled towards the door, knowing that fighting against it had always been fruitless.

From now on, he was going to fight _for_ it.

***

Jeong hunched over the computer, his glasses glinting with the blue light.

Yoosung stopped pacing the length of the room, walking to stand next to the desk chair. “Anything?”

“Oh my GOD little dude, you asked that five minutes ago.” His friend stopped typing, glaring at him. Jeong was too thin and gangly to be threatening, but Yoosung still swallowed as he looked into his brown eyes. Jeong turned back to the computer, and Yoosung exhaled in relief. “And I think I’ve almost got it. Your friend’s a real paranoid motherfucker, I’ve had to break out the big guns to get this GPS going.”

“Yeah, he’s…let’s just say he’s unique.” Yoosung leaned against the desk, looking at the walls in his room. _Please find him, please let this work_ _…_

“Bingo bango, we have a location!” Jeong leaned forward into the keyboard again, his fingers flying so fast Yoosung could barely keep track of them. “He go hiking or something? What the fuck is out in the mountains that far?”

“The mountains?” Yoosung stared at the screen, maps that he couldn’t read flickering as the program searched the area.

“Yeah…oh, here we go. Huh, there’s a server that’s been blown wide open that’s full of information…” Jeong whistled out of the side of his mouth. “Damn, somebody _fucked up_ that security system. I have access to everything…hmm, let’s see…coordinates show that your dude is in the middle of this building.” Jeong’s finger bumped against the screen as he pointed it out to him. “Oh, well, hello! Security feeds, and somebody done went and made them open access! Don’t mind if I do!” he typed in a series of letters and numbers, and a few seconds later a window popped up with dozens of squares displaying different angles of some strange building. “Today’s your lucky day little dude, I think we have visual on your friend’s location.” He clicked on one of the squares, and it expanded to take up the screen.

There he was. Seven was laying on the floor of a room full of computer parts and books, a big red stain on the front of his shirt. He was looking at his phone with a warm, loving expression on his face, and Yoosung held his breath. “Can we see what’s on the phone?”

“Hm…ah, yes, camera number two!” he clicked and the perspective switched, and Yoosung could see a picture of Nicky glowing on the screen, her face bright and happy as she hung upside down off a couch.

Yoosung bounced up and down, grabbing Jeong’s shoulders and shaking him in his excitement. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew he couldn’t have really felt that way!!”

Jeong brushed him off, scowling. “Dude, chill. You’re messing up my hair.”

Yoosung let him go and watched the screen, rapt as Seven typed something into a program on his phone. It displayed a loading bar, and he could just make out the logo for the RFA app. “He’s downloading the app! He’s logging back in!”

Yoosung picked up his phone, opening the app himself. He waited, and Seven’s download finished and he opened his own. He navigated through, but he didn’t get into the chatroom. He opened a string of messages, but Yoosung couldn’t read them, the words were too small and far away to make anything out. It might have been Nicky’s profile picture next to them though, so he supposed that was who they were from. Jeong pulled up the second camera again, and they watched as Seven’s face fell in horror, his eyes widening. He held his phone up to his ear, and as he listened to whatever was on there he looked more and more distraught. Then he clicked his phone off, standing up on shaky legs and destroying part of his jacket to tie it around his waist.

“Shit, he doesn’t look so good…” Jeong frowned. Seven stumbled over to the door, his fingers digging into the edges of a small box next to it. “Dude, that’s not gonna work. You’re never gonna get out that way, you can’t hotwire a lock.”

Yoosung pulled up Seven’s contact in the RFA app, pressing the call button. He turned to Jeong as it rang. “Can you help him? Could you get the door open?”

“Ya. Probably, their system is shot full of holes right now, so I should be able to get through.”

He watched as Seven glanced at his phone, then stuffed it back in his pocket, letting the call go to voicemail. He returned to his task, yanking off the cover to the box and pulling out a jumble of wires.

“Hey, dude, don’t do that! I can’t hack it if he rips it apart.”

“Dammit, Seven!” Yoosung switched to his messages and opened a thread with Seven.

**Yoosung: stop trying to break the door, it won** **’t work**

He waited, and half a second later Seven sighed, pulling his phone back out of his pocket. He looked at the notification, and he almost put the phone back down after seeing it was Yoosung, but then the words must have caught his eye. Yoosung called again as Seven turned around, looking around the room in confusion. This time when his phone rang, he picked up.

“Yoosung? What the hell?”

Yoosung laughed out loud, unable to contain his glee. “I knew you didn’t really feel that way! I knew it!”

“What are you talking about?” Seven spun in a circle, searching the room. “And how did you know I was breaking a door?”

“I’m looking at you right now! Sorry, but I felt like your goodbye was pretty bullshit, so I got a friend of mine to come help. He’s a whiz at tracking GPS signals, and I thought if I could find you, I could go talk some sense into you. Looks like I had good timing.”

Seven looked at the floor as he gripped the phone. “You had that much faith in me? After everything I said?”

“You’re weird, but you’re not a psychopath. I knew you couldn’t really hate her for what happened to her.”

“Thank you.” He sounded overcome, and Yoosung felt his chest tighten in response, his own relief at talking to his friend again a wonderful ache in his heart. “But…what do you mean you can see me?”

“Oh, that. My friend says there’s a server in the building you’re in, and somebody has hacked it to pieces, so he has access to like, everything. Including the security feeds.”

Seven laughed. “Oops, I didn’t mean to do that, I just wanted to disable everything for a bit.”

Jeong pumped a fist in the air, shouting in victory. “Bingo, door’s open!”

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Seven rushed over to a laptop on the desk, stuffing it into a bag even as he asked the question. He grabbed a small black book off the floor and added that to his things.

“Yeah, door’s open.” Yoosung could barely contain the hope that he had, feeling like he would burst with it. But he had to ask, he had to know for sure. “Where are you gonna go now?”

“I’m going to save Nicky.” His voice was full of life, full of determination and dedication, and Yoosung felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Yoosung smiled, wider than he had smiled in almost two years. “It’s about damn time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU MADE IT. YOU MADE IT THROUGH THE WORST OF IT. 
> 
> It's not all rainbows and sprinkles yet, but AT LEAST SEVEN IS BEING SENSIBLE AGAIN.


	34. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a case of mistaken identity.

 It smelled like iron. It smelled like iron and it was warm against his palm. Warm and sticky.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he had wanted it to be.

Saeran ran up the stairs, the darkness in the hall wrapping around him. He felt like he had become separate from the world, like the air and the ground and everything in between had drifted to the left, while he was still front and center, in the middle of nothing. He slammed into the door when he finished his climb upward, crashing it open to emerge in the bright sunlight of midafternoon. He looked up at the sky, bright blue and wide, as the wind brushed his hair with the chilly echoes of fall. The sky, it was always so peaceful. Always so wide.

_Always look up._

He turned away, staring at the ground. He was breathing heavily, and he just wanted it to stop. He wanted his heart to stop doing that thing in his chest that made him feel like a never-ending drum beat was tapped against his ribs. He wanted quiet. He wanted silence. He wanted to stop seeing that liar’s eyes every time he blinked his own.

He stumbled forward, lurching towards the tree-line. The sun cascaded through the branches of the trees, creating solid rays of gold. He stared at them and thought of the Savior’s hair, like curling sunshine. She would save him. She would protect him. She would give him his medicine and make the pain go away again.

He watched the leaves dancing in the breeze and he remembered wide hazel eyes, fingers over his, the wind from the open window dashing against their backs as she whispered words that stilled him. She hadn’t wanted him to burn the world. She had light in her eyes.

Paradise. The Savior promised paradise. The Savior took away his pain, told him the truth. She had taken him from his mother and replaced her, giving him purpose and meaning, giving him the weapons to fight to bring order to mankind. She wanted him to help her burn the world, and her light was blinding.

“Wow, that’s a terrible disguise. Are you even trying?”

The low voice broke into his thoughts, intruding on his panic. He turned, and he saw a broad woman standing with her arms crossed. An expensive car was parked beside her, the door still open. She looked furious, and she had a bright purple bruise spreading from her temple, the deep colors creeping over her skin.

“Who are you?” he didn’t care, but the question was perfunctory. The Savior would surely want to know.

“Are you going to make me do this the hard way?”

He glanced at the temple, the doors far away across the yard. “What are you talking about?”

She moved quicker than he would have thought for such a thick person, her hand flying inside her jacket and pulling out a gun. It was aimed at his head before he could blink. The metal was dark, and shined in the sun like reflective shadows. Pull the trigger, end his world. He liked the efficiency.

“Get in the car.” She tilted the gun towards the open door.

He took a step back. “The Savior -”

She closed the distance between them with a quick jump, and the butt of the gun smashed into the side of his head. His vision exploded with bursts of starlight, faintly green like the sun through the leaves. Hazel eyes, full of light. He expected to hit the ground, but the woman caught him in a grip as tight as a vice. Everything was swimming. A warm drop ran down around his ear, slipping over the side of his neck. His blood. His blood and his other blood, mingling on his skin. It was all warm and sticky. He tried to jerk away, to push the woman’s arms off of him, but she was made of stone.

“Let me go!” he screamed, but the wind whipped the sound away, carrying it to the mountaintops and away from the ears of the Savior. Prayers unanswered, pain unending. It was muddled, and difficult, and hot like the blood pressed to the side of his face and drying in his palm.

“Shut up. The boss wants to see you in person. You’re lucky that’s the case, or I would have put a bullet between your eyes the second I saw you.” She dragged him to the car and tossed him inside, his arms banging painfully against the metal frame. She met his gaze, and hers was full of ice. “Oh, and agent 707? That hair color is fucking stupid.”

She got in, slamming the door and twisting the key in the ignition. She kept the gun aimed at him, leveled at his heart. She thought he was him. Or him was he. She thought he was the liar, the traitor. If she pulled the trigger, would the bullet hit his heart and make his brother’s bleed? Whose blood would explode out of the wound? Was there a difference?

He turned, staring out the window as the car drove away, and he tried not to think about the blood smeared on his face and hands, and how it hadn’t come from him but was still his.

***

He’d gotten lost. In his frantic attempts to get back as quickly as possible, he had made a wrong turn and stumbled into an unfamiliar part of the woods. The shadows in his eyes made it difficult to navigate his way back, and so it had kept him away from the temple far longer than he had wished. He would be too late, he was certain of it, but still V forged forward, leaning on his cane to ease the ache in his legs. Pain was no stranger to him any longer, and so he knew that he could endure.

He could just make out the edge of the tree line, and he could see the shape of the building beyond.  He also saw shapes in between the two, sleek and molded, something man made. He watched a figure emerge from the shape, the click and rush of air familiar, the sound of a car door unique amongst the empty mountains. The driver stood, waiting a moment, and then they spoke, though he couldn’t hear the words. That was when he spotted the other figure, stumbling from the building. He squinted, trying to clear his eyes of the haze, desperately wishing that he would be able to discern what was going on. The second figure spoke, and his blood ran cold.

_Saeran_ _…_

It would be easy to confuse the two, but he had always been able to tell the difference between them with a glance or a word. Luciel, no, Saeyoung, had always had hope. When he spoke, even when he was upset, there was always the sweet notes of hope beneath all of it. His eyes were always looking onward and upward, always looking for the solution to the problem at hand. Saeran, on the other hand, always seemed lost. His voice, even when he was confident, held a hint of unease, the whisper of doubt beneath it. His eyes were brilliant, beautiful when he smiled, but there was always the acceptance of despair within their depths. Saeran was always trying to give up, and Saeyoung was always finding reasons not to. Tied to one another by the chain of birth, they could have leaned on each other and pulled through the fires of trial and misfortune. They could have, had he not thought to intervene.

Oh, what crimes a fool in love could commit! Too many, far, far too many.

It was easy to recognize Saeran’s voice as the other figure dragged him into the car. V walked closer, unsure of what he could possibly do in the situation but unable to sit still. He got close enough to hear the woman - it seemed to be a female voice - call Saeran “Agent 707”, and the door of the car shut. He had seconds before it drove away, before Saeran was trapped in the fate meant for his brother, the only clue in their wake the eye witness account of a lying bastard with no eyes. He squinted, blinked, did everything that he could to clear his vision, and in the end he made out the letters M E O W on the back of the license plate. That was something, at least.

He turned, making his way in the direction that he thought Saeran might have come from. If that woman had confused him for his brother, then that meant that Saeyoung could still be inside, and perhaps he could do something to help, after all. His hope was feeble, battered and broken through the years of solitude and failure, but still it lived. Pessimism would have been wiser, but he had always been an optimist. A foolish, damned optimist.

He was half way to the door when it flew open, someone rushing out of it. They stopped in their tracks when they saw him.

“ _You._ _”_

The other voice, the other half of the harmony that had been so discordant since the first note was struck. So, it was Saeyoung, then. “Luciel -”

“How dare you say my name? Any of my names?” he advanced forward, and V made no move to step out of his way. “How dare you show your face here. What did you do to him? What the hell did you let happen to him?!”

The truth would have been so easy. It would have been so much simpler to let him know how it had all happened, the roadblocks that they had faced, the unexpected complications. It would have been so much easier to tell him that he had let Rika make the call, and hadn’t realized until it was too late what she had planned for him. It would have weighed less on V’s shoulders, made it easier to breathe, if he just told him the truth.

That would have been selfish, however. He didn’t deserve to absolve his guilt; he didn’t deserve to lessen his pain. It would be better if Saeyoung never knew what had happened, because V was weak and useless. It was better that none of them know what Rika had done.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit. You could if you wanted to. Tell me right now, give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you for the lying son of a bitch you are.” He took a step closer, and V could feel him trembling, feel his breath coming too quickly. He glanced down, and even in his near blindness he could see the thick red stain seeping through Saeyoung’s clothes.

“You’re injured! Here, let me -”

“Don’t touch me!” Saeyoung threw his hands out, slamming his palms into V’s chest and sending him soaring backwards. He hit the ground and skid in the dusty gravel, the air rushing from his lungs as he stared up at the sky. Saeyoung walked forward to stand over him. His golden gaze filtered through the blur, and he could see the tears in his eyes, bright like starlight.

“Please, Saeyoung, let me help you.” His voice cracked around the words, a croak that was as sorry as he himself should have been. “I only want to help.” He did. He would give anything to help, to repair what cracks he could, to build the bridges over again and make them stronger with hope, with good intentions. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, and it had been a long, long road.

“No. You…because of you and whatever fucking secrets you insist on keeping, because of you everyone that I’ve ever loved is in danger.”

_True._ V swallowed. “I know.”

 “You made my life so dark that I couldn’t see the light…I almost…” Saeyoung knelt, knocking V’s dark glasses aside to make sure that their eyes met, unhindered by the mask he hid behind. “If she gets hurt because of this, because of you…if she gets hurt because your lies twisted everything, then you had better believe that I will find you and make you pay.” He stood, turning away and walking towards the other car in the driveway.

“I’m sorry.” He said it to the sky, because the apology belonged to the world as much as it belonged to Saeyoung, the sweet little boy that he should have tried harder to help. He had been blinded long ago, before she had scarred his eyes. Her light had always blinded him.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” The car door slammed, and V listened as the ignition revved into life before Saeyoung sped away.

V pulled out his phone, opening his emails. It was difficult to see well enough through the haze, through the tears, but he managed to locate the buttons that he needed, creating a temporary account that wouldn’t appear to be from him, lowering the chances that he would delete it immediately. He titled it “Your Other Half”, then he selected Saeyoung’s private email account from his contacts, and wrote his message.

**Saeyoung,**

**There was a woman that took Saeran just before you arrived. She called him** **“Agent 707” and drove off in a car with the letters M E O W on it. That is all that I know.**

**I** **’m so sorry, for everything.**

**-V**

He shut the app and sat up, his back aching from the fall. His bruises would be numerous, but the wounds in his mind were uncountable. It was time to stop hiding. It was time to stop lurking in the shadows, pretending that secrecy would accomplish what he needed. It was time to face her, or the shell she had become.

He started to stand when a small sound startled him, coming from the bushes not far from his feet. He peered through the leaves and movement caught his eye as a small, fluffy figure emerged, mewling at him while it shivered.

“That’s…impossible.” He looked down at her as she purred, rubbing against his legs. “Elizabeth the 3rd?” she meowed in response, and he picked her up, rubbing behind her ears as she curled into his arms.

Once again fate saw fit to temper with his plans, thwarting forward progress with one hindrance after another. He couldn’t take her into the temple. He couldn’t do anything until he returned her. Jumin would be shattered if any harm came to her, and he could not stand for more trauma to be placed upon him. It would be easy to set the cat back down, to back away and forget about her, but that betrayal was a step too far. He had betrayed Jumin enough in this lifetime, walling off his heart to the best friend that he had, and he could not stomach yet another. The cat had to be returned.

 Jumin wasn’t close, however. He was in the very center of the city, his apartment tucked amid the high-rise monsters that towered over the concrete streets. It would take him too much time to get there, and he was already going to lose precious hours calling a cab to come collect him from the main road. There was only one RFA member that was close enough, one that was within reach so that he could drop off the poor cat and make his way back to the temple.

Unfortunately, that member would not be happy to see him. None of them would, at this juncture, but Yoosung was going to be particularly difficult to face. He was always such a good judge of character, and he had sensed that things had been wrong after Rika had gone. He had known things were wrong before then, too, but he idolized her so that it had blinded him. Yoosung hated him, but they were similar in that way, blinded by her light.

Still, there was nothing that he could do. The cat had to be returned, and he had to do it quickly.

V started walking, heading down the mountain path towards the main road. He prayed that he could return soon. He was finally ready. Ready to face the light.


	35. A Better Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven is traveling and Yoosung has a visitor.

The world sped by again, the sky full of orange and pink, the colors staining the world as the sun sang its swan song before giving way to night. It was beautiful, but Seven barely saw it. He was absorbed in his own head. His thoughts stretched forward, into the future, into the resolution of the task at hand. He would get back to her, and he would do whatever it took to make everything up to her. Anything.

His thoughts also stretched into the past, though. His encounter with V had shaken him. He hadn’t expected to find him there, in the most incriminating place possible. It could only mean that he had known where it was. He had known what was going on, the entire time. Seven hadn’t wanted to believe it. V, the kind man in the church, the man who had stood tall as a father figure to him as he struggled through everything life threw at him…he had trusted him so completely.

Even when things had all fallen apart, even when they both stood together at the site where his crimes had finally been revealed, he had still refused to explain. Seven was so tired of secrets. He was so tired of holding things from the people he cared about under the guise of protecting them. He had done it all his life, and all that had come of it was heartache, and more danger. Nicky wasn’t any better off because he had fled the scene of his crimes. He wasn’t saving her by abandoning her. He had done it with the best of intentions, of course, because that was what he had been taught to do. Those were the values that V had taught him, that loving the people around him meant forcing himself to suffer. That keeping secrets was better for the greater good, no matter how heavy they felt.

It was all bullshit. If V had been honest, there may have been something Seven could have done for Saeran. If V had been honest, he wouldn’t have ever joined that stupid spy agency. Then he wouldn’t have had his attention split, and he could have gone over and protected Nicky from the very beginning, like he should have. Like he had wanted to. He would have never been driven into that awful, dark place where he tried to turn away from her. He would have never felt like his love for her was a curse, rather than the blessing that it was. That was what V would have told him, he was sure of it. That it was dangerous to love, that he had to be careful making that mistake. That he had to maintain his distance from the RFA to protect their secrets and information. Keep the world safe by staying out of it, by being in the shadows and never revealing his purpose. They had all trusted V, like he was the person that would have laid down his life for them. In truth they had just been currency to him. He collected them, like trophies, and appeared from his lofty hiding place to request favors from them whenever he had a need. Favors that they always gave, because it was V, and they believed in him.

Fuck all of that. He was done living by the creeds of a man that hadn’t come through for them when they needed it.

_Hang on, Nicky. Just hang on so that I can apologize to you in person._

He thought of Nicky and Saeran, standing in front of the window. He thought of how brave she had been, and how open. She had looked into the eyes of a man she had thought wanted to kill her, without knowing anything else about him, and she had filled her gaze with compassion. That was the kind of person that he wanted to be. He wanted to reach out to people, to take their hands and ease them away from the triggers. He wanted to make bots to spread Zen’s face to all his fans, and programs to help Yoosung focus in school. He wanted to teach Jumin how to express himself outside of cat pictures, and help Jaehee figure out how to request a vacation. He wanted to be the person that would have taken the madman’s hand and begged him to love instead of burn.

For one shining moment, Saeran had looked at her and listened, and her light had illuminated him in full. One woman, in one moment, had almost saved the world. And Seven had turned around and paid her back with the deepest betrayal he could think of. A betrayal that had been even worse than he could have guessed.

She showed him a better way, and he was a fool for taking this long to see it. The answer to the problem was never to push people away. The answer had always been her, had always been the RFA. It had always been to work together.

He was done fucking up. He was done letting V poison his heart.

He only hoped that it wouldn’t be too little, too late.

_***_

Jeong had left, after forcing Yoosung to log in and transfer the legendary drop over to his RedRogue2 account, and now his dorm room felt empty. He wanted to pick up the phone and call someone, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Nicky wasn’t answering any calls or messages for the moment, and Zen and Jaehee were still so pissed at Seven that he wasn’t sure that they would believe him if he told them what was happening. He wasn’t even sure he believed it yet, himself. He knew better, but it all felt so surreal. Like he had hallucinated the entire thing.

Still, he had Jeong to vouch that it had happened, and the missing item in his LOLOL inventory was further proof. He didn’t understand why Seven had lied yet, but it _was_ a lie. He didn’t hate Nicky. In fact, Yoosung would have put a lot of money down on the idea that he might even love her.

He sighed, falling backwards on his bed again, staring at the ceiling once more. It was the stuff of stories. Guy meets girl, and they can’t help but fall for each other. A perfect match, right from the start. He had been beginning to think that it never happened outside of books and games, but then Nicky stumbled into their world and changed everything, for all of them.

He had used to admire Rika’s relationship with V. He used to look at them and wish that he could have that with someone, someday. That he would find a girl as beautiful and smart and talented as Rika. She had saved him, and he loved her for that. He had always done well in school, had always had friends, but he had never really connected with them. It was the reason why he had never dated in high school. It wasn’t for lack of choice, but lack of interest. No one had felt…real, until he had met Rika, and joined the RFA. Talking with them made him feel like there was a real connection there, something deeper than what he could find with the people at school. Those friendships felt like habit, like they only existed because they happened to be in the same room together multiple times a week. But the RFA sought each other out, and planned all year for one get together where they would all have time to hang out. The parties were for charity, of course, because they all believed in giving back to the world, but a personal bonus for each of them was getting to see each other.

Then Rika had died, and it had all gone wrong. V wouldn’t explain anything and never talked to them anymore, nobody talked about parties, everyone drifted away. Logging into the chatrooms became mechanical and rote, something they did but couldn’t explain why. All of them chased the ghost of the friendships that had just been started, wishing they could figure out how to restart what had stopped. Nobody had known how. He felt like he had drifted in an endless ocean of loneliness, stuck on his own island of doubt and grief. He could never bring himself to believe that she had committed suicide.

_“I know it’s hard, but you never could have predicted this. These things happen.”_

_She wiped her eyes, red rimmed from all the tears that had been running from them._ _“You’re so naive sometimes, Yoosung, Death doesn’t just happen. Someone has to be at fault.”_

_“Rika, she ran in front of a car. You can’t think you’re responsible for Sally’s death, you’ll tear yourself apart.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she felt hollow._

_“She couldn’t see it. If I had just gotten her surgery, then she would have seen and never run into the road.”_

_“Didn’t the vet say that she might have died in surgery? You chose not to because her odds were better without it. You were giving her more time.”_

_“It doesn’t matter!” her anger shocked him, and he pulled away as she glared at the floor. “You should never choose to give up! Never choose death! Death is weak, and look what it does to those around you. This must be karma. Payback. Sally must have been angry that I didn’t get her treatment, and that’s why she ran in the road!”_

_“That’s not true! Sally loved you!” he blinked away his tears, wishing he knew what to say to ease her suffering. He just wanted to make her smile, that was all he ever wanted. She made him feel like the world went dark whenever she wasn’t smiling._

_“Right. Love. Do you think it’s enough?” she stared at her feet, her gaze unmoving._

_“What is?”_

_“Love. Is it enough to overcome the disease?”_

_His heart thudded in his chest. He had never heard her talk like this before. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out._

_“Love can overcome anything, my bright sunshine.” Yoosung looked up as V walked in the door, and Rika instantly brightened. She stood and rushed to him as he opened his arms, welcoming her into his embrace. “Yoosung, thank you for looking after her while I was out.”_

_“Of course.” He smiled, and let his worry over Rika’s words wash away. She was just distraught, that was all. She would be back to her normal, happy self in no time. Her love was there, after all._

If he looked back and forced himself to think about it, then he could see the spots of darkness. He could see them blemishes in the light, the shadow creeping up from the corners. He had never wanted to see it before. He had never wanted to accept that she was anything less than perfect. Even still, he couldn’t accept that she would have killed herself. She hated pain and suffering, and she knew that death brought all those things to those that were still living. How could she have ever considered inflicting that on all of them?

A soft knock on the door intruded into his thoughts, and he sat up, staring at it as though he could discern who was on the other side without opening it. The knock came again, firmer and more insistent. He swung his feet onto the floor and padded across the carpet, opening the door the smallest amount that he could to peer out of the crack.

He wanted to slam it shut, but shock caused him to swing it fully open, his jaw hanging low as he stared at his visitor.

“Hello, Yoosung.” V had the good sense to at least appear apologetic as he stood there. He wore a pair of cracked, black sunglasses, and his sweater was covered in dust and dirt. A fluffy white cat was curled up in his arms, peering at him with big, blue eyes.

“V?” it was a stupid question, but it was all he could think to ask. Of course it was V. Summoned from the very dour thoughts that he had been having moments ago.

“May I come in?”

He wanted to say no, but he stepped aside and gestured for him to enter anyways. Yoosung shut the door, and when he turned back around V was thrusting the cat at him, a disgruntled yowl erupting from its tiny mouth.

Yoosung took it, to keep it from dropping to the ground, and its claws dug into his shoulder as it clung to him. “What the hell?”

“I found her…outside. I’m sure Jumin is very worried about her.” V didn’t meet his gaze, and Yoosung looked between him and the cat.

“This is Elizabeth the 3rd? Where was she?”

“Outside.”

“Yeah, you said that part already.”

“I did.”

Yoosung scowled, placing the cat gently on his bed, where she proceeded to burrow into his covers. “So that’s it? That’s all I get?”

“Yoosung -”

“Rika committed suicide.” The volume in his voice increased with every point, but he couldn’t stop, a floodgate opening in his heart that let everything come tumbling out at full force. “There was a bomb in her apartment. You wanted to blow Nicky up, no questions asked. Then a hacker tried to murder her. You didn’t answer a single phone call. Now the hacker might be connected to Rika, and Seven almost got himself killed and ruined the entire RFA trying to deal with it. And all you wanna say is that you found the cat outside?”

V flinched at every word, as though each one was a physical blow. “It’s complicated. More complicated than you can know…”

“Then explain it! Stop pretending like we don’t all know you’re lying!”

“I can’t, please -”

“ _Stop saying that._ You could if you wanted to. _What happened to Rika?_ I want the truth!”

V’s eyes snapped onto his, and for the first time that Yoosung could ever remember, he looked angry. “You don’t want the truth. You don’t want to know what happened. None of you do. You want an easy answer; you want to accept that she’s gone and move on. I promise you, no matter what you think, that is what you want to believe.”

Yoosung rushed him, grabbing his collar and shaking him so that his glasses were knocked askew. “You don’t get to tell me what I want! You don’t know anything about us anymore! Who are you?! Were you ever our friend?”

“Always! I loved each and every one of you more than I ever loved myself!” Tears worked their way out of his mint green eyes, clouded more than just sorrow. “I’ve done everything for you, for her. Everything!”

“Done what? Lied?! Attempted murder?! _We never asked you to do anything for us!_ _”_ He shook him with each sentence, wishing that he could turn him upside down and throttle the truth out of him. “I’m sick of questions, I’m sick of secrecy, and I’m sick of you lying to everyone and breaking their hearts when they figure it out! Look what you’ve done to us!”

“I did my best!” V grabbed his wrists and wrenched them away, tearing the collar of his shirt in the process. Yoosung stumbled back, falling on the bed and sending the cat scrambling to the far corner to get out of the way. V looked down at him, and Yoosung could see all of his broken pieces clearly now, all the anger, all the regret, all of it trapped inside of him, boiling over in a frothing mess. “I am a liar. I’m a liar and I deserve all your hate. Every one of you has every right to hate me. But I’m not going to tell you the truth. I’ll never do that to you. I’m going to do my best to fix things, and then nobody needs to have this pain but me.” He paused, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “I’m going to fix things. For all of you.”

He turned and marched out of the room, bumping into the corner on his way through the door. He slammed it shut behind him, startling Elizabeth the 3rd again so that she curled up against Yoosung’s back, shaking in fear.

There was a truth. There really was something that V hadn’t been telling them. Yoosung had been right, he had known all along that there was something more to Rika’s death, known all along that it couldn’t have happened the way V had said it did.

He doubled over, holding his chest as the crying started, shaking him as sobs of pain and a year of grief poured out of him.

He had been right, so why did he feel so, so much worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I did a bad job explaining the time, there is a bit of a time skip in the middle there, so V didn't beat Seven back to the city, Seven is about 5 minutes away from his destination at the end of this chapter. 
> 
> Next chapter: Seven arrives!!!!!


	36. The First of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seven gets through to Jumin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEELINGS. A GREAT MANY FEELINGS. 
> 
> This was hard to write and I have edited it three times and I think I'm happy with it, so I hope you guys like it. T_T I did my best.

The sun was long set by the time he arrived back in the city, the stars blinking into view one by one. He no longer felt like they were judging him. Now it felt as though each point of light that flared to life in the sky was cheering him on, reminding him to always look up, to always reach for the stars.

The cold night air sank into his skin as he changed in the car. His nerves were on fire, his adrenaline pumping through his veins so that he wanted to do nothing more than take off running to the massive apartment building immediately, but he had just enough presence of mind to realize that rushing to her rescue covered in blood wouldn’t have been the best decision. He dug through his bag until he found a clean t-shirt and dragged it over his head. The jacket lining was still pressed tightly around his middle, and he looked down for a moment, checking to make sure it wasn’t going to bleed through again. It looked like the wound had closed a little, so he should have enough time to get up there and smack some sense back into Jumin before he would need to treat his injury. It stung, his abdomen feeling like it had been ripped to shreds, but he ignored it. He had bigger things to worry about.

He set his bag back on the floor beneath the seat and opened the door, hopping out. When he stood up straight he had to grip the metal frame of the car as a wave of dizziness washed over him.  He couldn’t tell if it was pain or blood loss, but he gave himself a second to close his eyes and take a couple deep breaths. When he felt like the world had stopped spinning he slammed the door shut and started running, turning to the side to slip through the glass doors as they automatically opened before him. The doorman gave him a curious look as he raced to the elevator, and he couldn’t resist giving him a salute as he pounded the button to call it to the bottom floor.

The doors opened, he stepped in, and he pressed the number for the top floor, which was the only place Jumin Han could possibly live. As the elevator started to climb upward he tried to calm his nerves, tried to remind himself to keep breathing. He was terrified that it was all too late. That he would get up there and find some horrible scene because Jumin had snapped, because he gone through just as much shit as the rest of them in the past forty-eight hours and nobody could withstand that on their own for long. Seven had behaved just like he had been taught to behave, disappearing when he was needed most, just like V had always done. Not only had he done terrible things to accomplish that, betraying Nicky, but he had betrayed each member of the RFA as well, all in different ways. Jumin would have been particularly hurt. With everything that was happening with his father and V, the poor guy would have already been under terrible strain. Seven disappearing would have been but a drop in the bucket, but it only took one to start the overflow.

Worse, he was worried that he would get in there and everything would be fine. He knew that he had absolutely no right to hope against it, but if he walked in to find that she had changed her mind, that she had sought comfort in Jumin’s arms and given in to his affections, then it might kill him. He would be relieved that she was safe, and he could take solace if it was what would make her happy, but in the end he didn’t want to be that selfless. He wanted her, he wanted a chance to hold her again, he wanted to be able to tell her how he felt now that he wasn’t blinded by his own self hatred. The idea that Jumin might be able to tell her those things in his stead made him feel like the the world crashing down around him, crushing the dreams out of his chest.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up the RFA app and tapping her picture.

**707: I** **’m almost there, so wait for me, okay?**

He thought of a dozen other things that he could say, but that would have to be enough. Everything else should be said in person, so that he could look her in the eyes when he spoke. After the long couple of days that he had spent avoiding looking at her, he wanted to have her in his sight for everything he had to say, good and bad, and he wanted her to know that he would always want to see her, for the rest of their lives.

The elevator doors opened, and he took one step into the hallway before he stopped short, blinking at the sea of guards that hovered around Jumin’s apartment. It was like the great wall of stern neck ties, impenetrable and imposing. One of them glanced in his direction, an eyebrow creeping upwards.

“You lost?”

_Shit._ “I need in that apartment, gentlemen.”

“If you would like to meet with Mr. Han you will need to make an appointment with his assistant.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets so that they wouldn’t see them shaking, shrugging and smiling as warmly as he could manage. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for that. I need in now.”

A handful of the guards exchanged glances, and the one who had engaged in conversation took a step forward. “I would suggest you leave. Now.”

There were eight guards in the hallway. He counted them, and then counted them again. He could probably take three of them by surprise, and then he could perhaps avoid the others to get to the door, but unless it was unlocked he would get beamed in the back of the head before he could get in. He would be dragged unconscious and be tossed in a dumpster, and Nicky would be left to suffer whatever fate had in store for her, alone.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Jumin! Jumin Han!”

“Hey, cut that out.” The guards advanced, and he took a step back, bumping into the wall.

“Jumin! I know you’re in there! We need to talk!” Two of the guards grabbed his arms, pulling him forward and away from the wall. He tried to twist out of their grasp, but their arms were solid iron. “I suppose you guys wouldn’t let me go in if I swore I was a friend? Just tell him Seven is here, he’ll let me in.”

One of the guards holding him wrenched his shoulder, and he winced as it sent pain shooting down his side. “Yeah, uh-huh. Just be quiet.”

They had just started dragging him forward when one of the other guards held up their hand, looking at Seven with intense curiosity. “Hold a minute. What did you say your name was?”

“Seven? Seven Zero Seven, also known as Luciel. He _does_ know me.” He searched the guard’s gaze, and he could see him thinking things over. He wasn’t sure what was causing the hesitation, but he wouldn’t waste the opening now that it had been presented to him. “I’m here to get Nicky. Is she in there? Do you know if she’s okay?”

That was enough, it seemed. The guard nodded, and the two that were holding him let go. “I’m probably gonna get fired for this…but…I don’t know what’s been going on with Mr. Han for the past twenty-four hours, but he hasn’t been himself, and that girl in there doesn’t look like she’s been very happy, either. I know it’s what I’m paid to do, but I can’t just sit around while all of this is going on. I’m gonna let you in because I recognize your name, but I will warn you…he punched the last guy that showed up, so watch yourself.”

“Bless you, sir, you’re an angel amongst security teams.”

The guard snorted as he turned and put a key in the door. “You’re really weird, kid.”

“That’s what they tell me.” He clapped the guard on the back as they cleared his path, and Seven walked forward and put his hand on the door, sending out a final prayer for luck or fate or anything that God would see fit to give him.

_Please, let it not be too late._

_***_

At some point she had gone numb again. She was sinking into thick clouds of despair, unable to see the way out. Her episode earlier had left her exhausted, and she barely had the energy to sit upright, so she hadn’t tried to argue when Jumin hovered near her, she didn’t put up a fight when he insisted that she don a dress for dinner, she hadn’t protested when he sat her down at the table and commanded that she eat. He had done none of those things roughly, none of them unkindly, but they were not options that had been presented to her. She was given soft commands, and she didn’t have the spirit left in her to disobey.

That made it no less awkward. The more he sensed her unhappiness, the more he wanted to help, and his method of choice was to ask more of her. Eat her food, drink her wine. Both tasted like air and ash to her. He would compliment her cheekbones, or the way the light hit her hair. She only felt more and more gross. She could see it in his eyes that he thought that he was falling for her. She could also see that he knew she didn’t feel the same, but in his desperation he needed to ignore that. If he could just get her to go through the motions, then perhaps the walls around her would give way. That was the light at the end of his tunnel, the hope that held him together. His dearest wish this evening was to erode her defenses until she gave up completely, and then he could have his prize.

She knew it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t help but be bitter. She didn’t have any hope left to guide her way. She could only wait for the inevitable. She knew that eventually he would try to kiss her again, his desire to ease his own pain finally growing greater than his care for her own. If he tried it tonight she wouldn’t be able to stop him. The numbness in her limbs was too great, her fire burning too low, guttered and dying. That was the worst part about his efforts. They were working, because she didn’t have any other thing to hold on to. Thus, she sank further into broken despair, the storm of shadows growing stronger. She couldn’t help Jumin on her own, she couldn’t ease his suffering without giving up pieces of herself. She was failing him, and herself, and she was so tired that she wasn’t sure she cared anymore.

She wondered if it would hurt very long when she hit the ground. If she leaped out the window while he slept, would she feel anything before the quiet darkness came?

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Jumin turned his head, tilting it towards the door, and she realized that there were noises coming from the hallway again. She didn’t even lift her eyes from her plate, staring at the glittering reflections on her fork. Her phone dinged in her pocket, and she almost didn’t pull it out. She didn’t want to see Yoosung or Zen or Jaehee, sending their thoughts but little else. Nobody knew what Jumin needed, and so they could only stand by as he pursued what he thought would help.

Still, the party was tomorrow, and if it was a guest then she needed to reply. Her mechanical performance as party planner would continue, whether she eroded or not, whether she survived the storm or not. It was all she could manage.

She glanced at the screen as she held the phone just below the table’s edge. She blinked, then stared, then blinked again. Her fingers shook as she unlocked the device, pulling up the message. Was she hallucinating? Was this her escape into insanity?

**707: I** **’m almost there, wait for me, okay?**

Her heart thudded in her chest, the world coming to a stop around her as she stared at the words. A glimmer of hope shot through the clouds in her heart, and she grabbed onto it, holding tightly. She heard the voices in the hall grow louder, and she realized that someone was out there, shouting Jumin’s name. Jumin was pretending not to hear it, but she could, and she recognized the voice. He was here. He had come back.

She would wait for him.

The lock on the door clicked open as someone pushed in a key and Jumin stood, placing himself between her and the exit. She remembered Zen, and she glanced at the mild bruises gracing Jumin’s knuckles. Her pulse increased, fear mingling with excitement, hope crashing into despair. She stood, unable to remain seated, unable to contain herself as the door swung open.

_He came back._

_***_

He walked in and let the guard close the door behind him, and the very first thing he saw was her. She looked pale, and tense, but still she was breathtaking. She was also standing behind Jumin, in a dress that Seven was sure she never would have picked out for herself in a million years. It was expensive looking, and elegant, pale blue silk arranged with thin lace patterns on top of it, tight around her waist and hanging off her shoulders. It was nice enough, but had none of her charm or personality. It wasn’t her, but it was very much to Jumin’s taste. It made him angry to see her dolled up, like some trophy Jumin could put on display. He felt a tide of rage rush through his veins. Rage at Jumin, rage at himself for pushing her into this. Rage at V for teaching him how to do it.

He smiled, but it felt like a snarl. “Jumin.”

“You have some nerve, arriving here unannounced. Or at all.” Jumin adjusted the cuff links on his jacket, flicking his eyes over Seven as though he were nothing more than a gnat. He took note of the light bruising on his knuckles and he frowned. That had better have been from the person he punched in the hall, and not something he had done to Nicky.

“You have some nerve locking someone in your apartment.”

“You don’t get to speak of her!” he shouted the words, and Nicky jumped behind him, shying away as a gasp slipped from her throat. Her eyes were wide and luminous as she looked between the two of them. “You shouldn’t even be allowed to look at her!”

He looked at her very deliberately then, making sure to draw her gaze. When their eyes met, he felt like he had been struck by lightning, and it took all his effort to remain where he was standing. “You okay?”

She nodded, but if she had been about to speak he would never know, because Jumin strode forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shoving him against the wall. His stomach rolled with pain, and he could feel the makeshift bandage loosen a bit, something warm and thick seeping out of it and along his waist. Nicky let out a strangled cry, clapping her hand over her mouth to silence herself, her eyes brimming with fear.

“Don’t talk to her. After what you did, you have no right to talk to her!” Jumin shook him with every word.

He tore his eyes away from Nicky and focused on his enraged friend, willing himself to calm down and face him. He didn’t try to break his hold, and made no move to stop his violent shaking. Instead he just looked him in the eye and spoke as sincerely as he could manage.

“I know. I have a lot of apologizing to do.”

“You think an _apology_ is enough?” even though he understood it, and even though he knew he deserved it, the vitriol in Jumin’s voice still hurt. Almost as much as the knife wound in his gut.

“No, I don’t, but I’m going to do it anyways.” He looked over Jumin’s shoulder, and his eyes met Nicky’s once more. It slipped, and he couldn’t control it, his lips tilting up into a stupid smile as she reminded him what light looked like. Jumin shook him back and forth, angry and violent, full of fury that was crashing over them in waves.

“Stop smiling! Stop looking at her! I’ll never let you touch her!”

“Listen to yourself!” he shouted back into his friend’s face, hating every part of it. “You keep talking about her like she’s an object that you won.”

Jumin turned his arm, pressing it horizontally into Seven’s throat. “She’ll never forgive you. You don’t deserve to be forgiven.”

He prayed that Jumin was wrong, even as he musted the strength to argue. “You don’t get to decide what she does. You don’t get to decide what happens to her!”

The arm sank further into his windpipe. “No. I will protect her.”

Seven brought a hand up and placed it around crushing his neck. “Look at her, Jumin. _Really_ look at her. Does she look happy and protected to you?”

Jumin didn’t look, and Seven saw the muscles in his neck strain with the effort that it took to avoid doing so. “Because of what you did! Because of how you treated her! Because the word has made her suffer! I will not allow it to continue!”

“Yes, but…” he wheezed around the pressure, trying push his fingers between Jumin and himself to gather a meager breath of air. He wasn’t getting through to him, and he was running out of time. A dark part of his mind tried to take control, to insist that he was ruining things again, that he would always ruin them. He thought of the stars, and he chose not to give in. He had an idea. It was a long shot, but it could be enough to snap Jumin back to his senses…or it could push him over the edge and Seven’s neck snapped. Still, it was the only shot he had. “What about when you kissed her? Think about how she looked after that.”

Jumin’s eyes widened in shock and dismay, shame coloring his cheeks. “How did you know about that?”

He could have lied, but he was sick of secrets, and he wasn’t about to start repairing his broken friendships with broken truths. “She told me.”

He turned his head a fraction of an inch, looking over his shoulder at Nicky. “You’ve been talking to him?”

She looked paralyzed, frozen in distress like a fawn beneath the beams of a truck. “Jumin, I just…”

Jumin’s head snapped back to Seven, and now there was more than just rage in his eyes. There was everything that the man insisted he never felt, everything that he kept bottled away like wine saved for a special occasion. Hope, fear, love, regret, loneliness. It was all there, boiling on the surface, barreling down on Seven as he tried to find a rope to throw down to Jumin, still trapped in the dark pit that V had left him in.

“I love her!” Jumin’s voice cracked, his arms trembled. His eyes glowed with too much light.

“No, you don’t.” It was barely a whisper as Seven spoke the words, his heart breaking as he said them because he knew that Jumin was clinging to this lie as his last line to sanity. He didn’t want to take it from him, but it was the only way to set her free. “Not like that you don’t, not like you think.”

“How could you possibly know? How could you understand?” they weren’t questions so much as pleas, broken and split so that they were wide open, begging for there to be hope left that he could hold on to. It would be over soon. He would be empty soon.

“Because look at what you’re doing to her.”

“And you would do better?” Jumin’s gaze was locked on the wall behind him, pupils dilated as his chest heaved.

“Only if she wanted me to.”

The last of the anger drained away. Jumin didn’t remove his arm, but there was no longer any pressure there, no anger holding his bones rigid. “If she wanted…” he looked into Seven’s eyes, and was a lost little boy, struggling to find meaning in a world that afforded him no hints. “I just want to protect her.”

“I know, but this isn’t the way. You know better, too. You know you’re hurting her.” He looked over Jumin’s shoulder, at Nicky, who had tears streaming down her face as she watched the scene unfold. He kept looking at her, even as he spoke to Jumin, because his words were as much an apology as they were a truth. “Believe me, I get it. We think that hurting them is better, because then we can control how much pain they have, that it’s the lesser of two evils…but…we can’t control that. If you loved her then you would know that you can’t take away her will, you can’t decide to choose her pain for her. You can’t decide what shape it takes. Love isn’t about control. It’s about surrender.”

Jumin let him go, his arms falling limp at his sides. He sank to his knees, and the tears finally came, glassy and full as they rushed between his lashes. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t understand how I feel. I just didn’t want to be alone…”

“You’re not.” Her voice was clear across the room, cutting through every emotion to replace it with her determination. His heart dropped as she walked to Jumin, kneeling next to him and placing her thin hand on his shoulder. “You’ve never been alone. The RFA is there for you, always. You never needed to trap me here to keep me, Jumin. I’ll always be your friend.” Her last word carried the meaning of the world within it, and Seven was glad that he had the wall to hold onto as relief rushed through his veins at dizzying speeds.

Jumin looked at her, sorrow painted in his gaze. “I’m so sorry. I knew you didn’t feel the same…I do not think I understood my own feelings enough that I should have pursued it, but I thought that it was the only way…I thought that you would disappear.”

 “I know.” She smiled, and it was bright and warm, more genuine than she should be able to offer after all that she had been through. “I’m sorry that I didn’t know how to help you…but I won’t disappear. I promise.” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug, and he returned it sincerely. She pulled back after a moment, standing and holding out her hand to him. “Friends?”

He took it, and she pulled him onto his feet again, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Always.”

“I’m going to go back now, to Rika’s old apartment. Will you be okay?” the concern on her face was impossible, her care for others surviving against all odds. How had Seven lived an entire lifetime without knowing such kindness could exist? How had her compassion continued to thrive after some of the worst things imaginable had been thrown at her?

Jumin nodded. “Yes. I think I will be fine. I just…I need some time to sort through my thoughts.”

“I’m only a phone call away, if you need it.” She squeezed his shoulder, emphasizing her sincerity.

Seven cleared his throat. “The same goes for me, man. If you need me, just call. I’m not disappearing again either.”

Jumin glared at him over the top of Nicky’s head, his eyes narrowing. “I haven’t forgiven you. Just because I was wrong doesn’t mean it excuses what you have done.”

“You’re right.” Seven resisted the urge to hide his gaze, keeping his eyes locked with Jumin. “Like I said, I have a lot of apologizing to do. I can explain, but not yet. Later tonight. You don’t have to forgive me, but I would appreciate it if you would at least hear me out. If you would give me the time. I would like…I want a chance to talk to her before I talk to anyone else. If she’s okay with that.” He couldn’t help the hope that slipped into his voice at the end, but once it was out he didn’t want to take it back. He didn’t want to hide his hope. Even if it ended up getting dashed to pieces, he never wanted to lose hope again.

Jumin frowned, as stern and serious as he ever was. “It is obviously not my call.” He brushed his fingers over Nicky’s shoulders, and she turned to him. “Nicolette, are you sure you _want_ to speak with him? You don’t owe him that just because he showed up. I can call a driver to take you home, if you wish. I won’t keep you here any longer.”

She shook her head, her hair rolling in waves across her shoulders as she did. “No, but thank you, Jumin. I want to talk to him.”

Then she turned to look at him, and Seven could hardly breathe. She was there, standing before him, when he thought he had given her up forever. She was there and she was looking at him with a smile, sorrowful but warm, hesitant but excited. How had he have ever walked away in the first place?

She nodded, and he returned the gesture, and they walked towards the door together. Just as they stepped into the hallway she spun on her heel, leaning around the edge of the frame to look back at the man they were leaving behind. “Jumin?”

“Yes?”

She smirked. “I’m not letting you get out of giving Zen an apology, too. Just so you know.”

Seven heard his sigh reverberate through the apartment, and he had to muffle his laughter.

“Fine. I’ll…think about the least painful way to do so.”

She smiled and waved, and then shut the door. She returned to Seven’s side, smiling at him, and together they walked through the cluster of guards and to the waiting elevator. The doors swung open, and they stepped in. He didn’t look where he was going, not really, and neither did she. Their eyes were on each other. They didn’t speak as the elevator rushed towards the ground, silent as they drank each other in with their gaze. There was no awkwardness, no animosity. There was no storm or fear, not in this one moment. It was simple, it was pure. It was just the two of them, absorbing their nearness, absorbing the fact that they were both together.

The elevator doors chimed and opened, and for a second neither of them moved. He wanted to stay put, to stay motionless, to sit there for all eternity just looking at her. The moment dissolved when she strode forward, walking across the lobby with clicking heels. She stopped several steps in, turning to make sure he was following, and he swung his feet forward to trail after her. They made it to the door, and she walked outside. She tilted her head back, taking in a deep breath and gazing at the stars. The streets were empty because of the late hour, most sensible people having rushed home to be with their families hours ago. It was just them and the sky, with the sweet winter chill nibbling at the tips of their noses.

He watched her watch the sky, and he felt more free than he had ever been. Above them, glittering points of light bedecked the black velvet of night, the heavens shining serenely. She looked at them and she breathed, and he had never seen anything more raw, nothing more real and honest than Nicky beneath the moonlight. They stood like that together for some time, reveling in the moment, before she finally turned, her lips bowed in a forlorn smile.

“Thank you. For coming back. What made you change your mind?” she clasped her hands in front of her, and he could see the cold was starting to get to her by the slight shudder in her hands.

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I got your messages. I realized something, while I listened to your voicemail. When you told me that you were scared…nothing mattered but coming back to you and making sure you were safe.” He took a small step towards her, wishing that he could reach out and touch her, wishing that he could impart his meaning in a thousand different ways. “I was so broken when I realized that I might never hear your voice again, that I might never be able to make you laugh…and then it didn’t matter that I could still put you in danger, or that you might hate me for what I had done.” He took another step, and he was standing over her now, her head tipped up so that she could still see his face. “I realized that, because of how I feel about you, I needed to fight for you until the end. If I let you go without giving it my best, then I could never forgive myself.”

Her smile was radiant, and he desperately wanted to wrap himself around her and hold her forever. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I’m sorry…” then her face fell, crumpling into anguish, and tears flooded down her cheeks. “Seven, Luciel, I love you so much. I’m so sorry that I disappointed you, that I made you hate me. I love you so much and I never meant to…I know what you saw must have been terrible, but I swear it isn’t true! I’m sorry that I hid it -”

He raised his hands, damning his hesitancy straight to hell, and he placed his palms against her cheeks, holding her so that she would look into his eyes, holding her so that she could feel his warmth as he spoke. “First, _never_ apologize for standing up for yourself. Not to me, not to anyone. No one should ever make you feel bad about what happened.” He took a deep breath as she blinked at him, surprise and hope mingling in equal measure in her gaze. “Second, I’m so, so, so sorry for what I did. I…if I had known…” his voice disappeared over the lump in his throat, choking his airway as he faced the truth of what she had been through, made worse because of his carelessness. “When I said that to you, in the apartment, I did it because I thought it was the only way to hurt you enough so that you would hate me. I wanted you to stop trying to get close to me, because I thought that I would only cause you pain. I never knew what had happened to you. I kept my promise, I never looked it up. I only found out when…well, when everybody else did, in the chat. I’m so stupid. If I had known what it was, I never would have used it against you like that.” He brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones, watching her lips part a millimeter at a time. “But I want you to understand this…I _never_ thought less of you for it. I never hated you. I still feel the same about you as I always have, and there is _nothing_ that I could find out about you that would change that.”

The tears came again, but this time she threw herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest. He pulled her in close, holding her as tightly as he could manage. It hurt his wound, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was her, her breath against his ribs, her heart against his own. The tattoos that he had made of her sang in his bones, the rhythm of her skin pulsing with his own. Seven held her, and vowed with every conviction that he had that he would never, ever let her go again.

An eternity passed as they stood in the cold, holding each other as she cried out the last of her pain. When she had grown quiet still they remained, standing beneath the silent light of the stars. He never wanted it to end, he wanted to remember it and cherish it always. Still, this time was different than the last time that he had held her. This time was not full of sorrow, but hope. This time was full of promise and future, of uncountable days where he would do it again, as often as possible. This time was not the last time, but the first of many, and he would count each one as a new and miraculous blessing.

She tilted her head, peering up at him between the edges of his jacket as it draped over both of their shoulders. She was smiling, soft and kind, in a way that he had never seen her do before…and he knew it was for him. That smile was rare, and new, and she had saved it through all the torment to deliver it here, only to him. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the words even if he had wanted to, because there was only one response to that smile.

“I love you. With all my heart.” He dipped his head and met her lips, and it was like being reborn. Sparks flew through his veins, lightning flashed in his heart. Her hands wound around his back, fingers pulling him closer as she melted into him. They breathed together, their sighs mingling in perfect tandem. She tasted like early snowfall and stardust, like magic and light. It was more than he had ever known anything could be, more bliss and joy than he had known existed in the world. It was perfect, and somehow it was his.

She sighed as she pulled back, resting her head against his chest. He was sure that she could hear his heart as it thundered against his ribs, that it would deafen her with its thrum, but she didn’t move. She pulled him even tighter, nuzzling him with her nose.

He didn’t mean to, but he winced, sucking in a breath as she compressed his middle, crushing his injury and surprising him with the pain. She backed away, looking up at him in surprise, and he grimaced.

“Sorry, ignore me. Listen, you must be freezing, we should get you back. Oh, and…there’s a few things I might need your help with…if that’s alright.” He blushed, suddenly unsure if this had been forgiveness or a temporary weakness. He had been over-confident. She could very well still be angry at him, and she would have every right to be. In his rush to love her he had forgotten that he didn’t deserve her, and that he wasn’t lucky enough to have her heart.

Her hand on his cheek stilled the chaotic thoughts, and he smiled as she did. “Anything. I’ll help you with anything.” She stood on her tiptoes and planted another quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, making him grin like a bemused fool. “And I love you too. With all my heart.”

_With all my heart._


	37. I Know You Mean It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a lot of exposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a monster, I apologize. SO MANY WORDS. I'm also sorry it took so long, I'll add some notes about that at the end of the chapter. This was originally supposed to be one short chapter but IT MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN AWAY FROM ME A BIT. 
> 
> But here it is. I'm not even sure how happy I am with it, so I hope it isn't boring. T_T

Her lips were tingling and she couldn’t stop smiling. Everything in the world had been set to rights in the span of an hour, and she felt like she could sprout wings and soar through the sky. She felt like if she reached her hand outside the car window she would be able to pluck the stars from the heavens, one by one, and hang them wherever she wished.

She still couldn’t believe her luck. He had come back, and as it turned out her worst nightmare had just been an illusion. She had never been more relieved to discover that someone had been lying to her. She knew that she should still be angry with him, and perhaps she was on some level, but the relief and adoration overshadowed everything else at the moment. She turned to look at him again, and the joy swelled up in her chest once more. He was smiling as he drove, his eyes darting back and forth as he watched the road. They hit a bump, and she was surprised to see him wince, the smile fading as a flicker of pain passed through him.

“Are you okay?”

He sighed, giving her a rueful grin. “I’ll be fine. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt, but it’s not fatal.”

Her fingers curled into fists against the top of her thighs, worry threading through her euphoria. “What happened?”

“Uh…my brother stabbed me.”

 “What?!” Her hand flew to the base of her throat as she gasped. “You have a brother? And he _stabbed_ you? Why are we going to the apartment, we need to get you to the hospital!”

“No, I can’t risk…they have to report things like that, and I don’t have any information that I could give the police about it. Not without risking his safety.” He adjusted his glasses, his gaze carefully positioned so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye while still having full view of the road.

She looked at the hand, still clenched in her lap, and she thought about everything that had happened in the last three days. Part of her had known it, probably from the moment she had seen him, but it was so strange to think about, such a stretch to put the pieces together, that she hadn’t believed it was true until this moment.

“Saeran. Unknown. He was your brother, wasn’t he?” Her heart broke a little more at her failure and her fear, her inability to reach through the storm and pull Saeran from the brink.

“Figured that part out, did you?” he reached over, grabbing her hand and twining his fingers with hers. “I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

She squeezed his palm, wishing that she knew a better way to reassure him. “Take your time. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

He laughed, brushing his thumb along the edge of her hand. “I would pull over right now and spill everything if I weren’t pretty sure I’d pass out from blood loss in the middle. I’m sick of secrets, especially from you.”

She wrinkled her nose, trying to frown even though his words were making her smile. “I can’t believe you’ve been running around with a stab wound and this is the first time you mentioned it.”

“Hey, I was running to your rescue!”

She blushed, biting her lip. “Which was very gallant of you, but it was still reckless.”

“Does it bother you?” he glanced away, turning so that she couldn’t see his eyes, his voice lowering with an ounce of melancholy. “I can’t promise safety. Not for myself, and not for you either. I can only promise to try my hardest, but…I’ve pissed off a lot of dangerous people this week.” She felt the tremor in his fingers, and her heart fluttered in response. “If you don’t want that, I would understand.”

She reached over and tugged at his earlobe with her free hand, giving him a stern glare. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Ow, what was that for?” he let her fingers go to rub at his ear, and even though he was scowling there was still laughter and relief in his gaze.

“I know what I’m in for, and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter who’s chasing us or how dangerous they are. I’ve already nearly been blown up, among other things, and none of it kept me from missing you. The only thing that matters to me is being with you, and we can overcome everything else _together._ _”_

“I love you for saying that, I really do, but you don’t know the whole story yet.”

She shook her head. “It won’t matter. There is nothing that you can do or say that will change how I feel about you.”

He drew in a long, slow breath, exhaling evenly as he looked at her. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I disagree.”

He laughed, wincing again as his stomach shook. “I had a feeling you might.”

They lapsed into silence as he drove onward, the quiet streets blanketed in the chilly night. Despite her worry for his wound, she felt like she was at peace for the first time in days, and breathing was finally coming easy. The streets were empty, and the clock on the stereo told her that it was half past eleven. In just over twelve hours they were supposed to be holding a party, and that idea seemed strange to her. The past three days seemed like a lifetime, all culminating in the brilliant man next to her, telling her that he didn’t deserve her. It was a lot to handle, that was for certain, but she was so happy that she felt confident in her promises to face whatever would come together. She was often unsure of things, often full of doubts regarding her future, regarding her purpose, regarding what it was she should be doing with her life. In this one thing, however, there were no doubts. She knew, without a doubt, that she loved him, and it was more true than any other revelation she had known.

They turned a corner, and she realized that she recognized the street, the tall apartment building coming into view. He pulled up to the curb, parking in one of the empty spaces, and turned the key off in the ignition. Finally, she was back to where it had all started, staring into the night sky at a building that loomed above her head. He opened the car door, stepping onto the pavement, and as she got out on her side she saw him waver, his hand seizing the side of the door to hold himself up. She rushed around the back of the car, ducking under his arm and forcing it around her shoulder while she slid her own around his waist.

“Sorry, just…dizzy.” He grimaced, shuffling his feet as he closed his eyes and tried to right himself. His face looked drawn and pale, and she wanted to shake him for being so careless to have pushed himself to this point.

“Come on, let’s get you upstairs so that I can treat you.” _Or hit you over the head and drag you to the hospital,_ she thought, although she didn’t voice that particular idea. He nodded, and she helped support him as they hobbled their way into the building and up the elevator. When the doors opened on the 17th florr the hallway was silent, as ever; still and empty. She could swear no one else lived in the building, although considering there had been a bomb inside it for over a year, that was probably a good thing.

They made it to the door, and Seven punched in the code and let them in. She was walking him back towards the hall to the bedroom, but she couldn’t help but pause in the living room. She looked at the mended window, at the couch that still had remnants of her blood dotting the cushions, at the ruins of the desk piled neatly in the corner. She stared at the spot where she had been standing when Seven had crushed her heart, when she had been certain that no pain could ever be greater than that which was caused by the look of disdain in his eyes.

Seven spun her without warning, cupping her chin and tilting her face up before he bent down for a kiss. He held her there for a moment, until the tension trained from her limbs, until she swayed into his embrace and let the shadows recede from her mind. When he released her she almost whined, wishing that it could last forever.

“What was that for?”

He blushed, gazing at her through half lidded eyes. “I wanted to make a new memory. For here. To replace the bad ones.”

Her heart melted, and she found herself unable to respond aside from smiling up at him, hoping that he understood how much he meant to her. They continued their ungainly shuffle back into the bedroom, and she helped him settle onto the edge of the bed where he breathed a sigh of relief to be off his feet.

“Do you know much about first aid?” he adjusted his glasses, peering up at her as she stood beside him.

“A little. I used to go camping a lot with my father, so I have the basics down.”

He nodded. “Would you mind…” he lifted the edge of his shirt, and the unspoken end of the question hung in the air as she stared at the smeared trail of blood that had been hidden beneath his clothes.

She plastered a serene and calm smile on her face despite the fact that she thought she might pass out. “Take off your shirt, I’ll go get some things from the bathroom and we’ll get you taken care of.”

She took a step towards the hall, then paused and thought better of it, turning towards the small dresser where she had been keeping her clothes. She opened the drawer and started shuffling through things, looking for something to wear. “Sorry, I’ll be out in a sec, I just want to grab something less ridiculous to wear so I can change while I get the supplies.”

He chuckled behind her. “Understandable. You look nice, though. Not like yourself, but still nice.”

She felt heat spread across her cheeks as she fished a t-shirt and shorts out of the chaos, turning to see him smirking at her, his hands on the bed as he leaned back. “What do you mean, ‘not like myself’?”

“It’s very pretty, but it doesn’t feel like something you would wear.” He shrugged, still smirking. “Am I wrong?”

She looked down at the dress, looking at the lace and silk, a cut that felt like it was trying to squeeze the air out of her lungs, fabric that was clingy and full of static. “No, you’re not wrong.” She sighed, twisting the clothes that she held as she balled her hands into fists. “I guess he never really saw me.”

“You okay?”

She tore her eyes away from the ground, looking back at him with the brightest smile that she could muster. “Yeah, sorry. Let me go get everything, I’ll be right back.”

She strode out of the room with steps that were slightly too long to be comfortable, making her way across the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She looked at herself in the mirror and was hit with the realization that two men had announced they were in love with her this evening, but only one of them saw her for who she was. Her heart had cracked when Jumin had made his confession. She knew he hadn’t meant it, not really, but in that moment he had believed that it was true, and he had been convinced he was going to lose her. She wished that she could go backward, rewind time to the point when she had first arrived at his apartment. She wished she could redo that first night, and make her feelings towards him clear. If she had been firmer, could she have prevented his downward spiral? Could she have focused his feelings in a more positive direction?

She started changing, swallowing the last traces of her regrets. Dwelling on the different ways things could have been was pointless. Things had happened the way they did, and she would have to believe it was for a reason. There was a rift between Jumin and herself now, but she was determined not to let it stay. She would keep his friendship, and make sure he understood that while she was not _in_ love with him, she still loved him. She loved every member of the RFA, and she would fight to hold them all together.

She dropped the dress in the corner behind the door and gathered as many first aid supplies as she could carry. She turned on the faucet over a silver basin and watched the ripples against the metal as it filled. Was this the same one Seven had used when he treated her feet? Not even two days later and the roles were reversed. _Peas in a pod._ She shut the tap off and piled everything in her arms, opening the door and marching back into the bedroom.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had instructed him to take his shirt off, but she had not actually prepared herself for the reality that would present her with, and she felt her knees wobble as she looked at him. He was sitting at the edge of the bed still, tugging gently at a shred of knotted fabric that he had tied around the wound. Every time he moved a new and very interesting muscle would flex, his bare chest a mosaic of moving parts that captivated her attention. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

He hissed as he tried to tug the fabric loose again, and she realized that it was stuck to the wound. She snapped out of her idiotic gaping and hurried to his side, setting her things down and dipping a cloth in the water. She pushed his hands away, kneeling in front of him and wiping at the spot he had been fidgeting with, soaking the area with water. Gradually, the dried blood started to give way, and she applied herself to the task of cleaning and removing his makeshift bandage. His skin was hot wherever her fingers brushed against it, and she could feel his gaze on her face, intent as her cheeks filled with heat. She pulled at another length of the fabric plastered to his stomach and he flinched, grunting in pain.

She wrinkled her nose, sparing him an apologetic glance. “Sorry! I’m trying to be gentle.”

He caught her hand up in his own, pausing her ministrations to bring it to his lips. “You never need to apologize to me for anything.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, quirking her eyebrow upward. “You’ll regret those kinds of lofty promises.” She was gratified when he chuckled in response, releasing her hand so that she could return to her work. She dipped the cloth in water again, chewing her lower lip as he jumped at her touch once more. This was going to hurt no matter how she went about it. She couldn’t even see the wound yet because of all the blood stuck to his skin and the fabric, and no matter how slowly she did this he was going to feel it as she pulled things apart. She needed to distract him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” His response was assured, confident that there was nothing she could want to know that he would not want to share, and she wanted to sing with how happy that made her.

“When…” she hesitated, unsure of the name, unsure if she was allowed to say it, her mind replaying the time that he had snapped at her for using the incorrect one. “When Saeran was in the apartment with me, he mentioned V.”

Seven’s eyebrows shot skyward. “He did? Why didn’t you say something?” She stopped what she was doing and stared at him, pouring sarcasm into the expression on her face. He blushed. “Right, sorry. What was the question?”

She tossed the now bright pink piece of cloth away, pulling out another one and dipping it in the water. “Did he know V, as well?”

“He _should_ have.” He sighed, the muscles in his abs shifting as his lungs emptied. “Although when I found out he was the hacker, I was pretty sure that couldn’t be the case. He mentioned him when I went to see him later, too.”

“He didn’t seem to like V very much. He called him a liar.” She pulled at another piece of the bandaging, more caked blood underneath.

“He’s not wrong.” He watched her face for a moment, studying her. “I suppose I should probably start at the beginning, huh?”

She met his gaze, making sure that he could see her while she spoke. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.” He nodded to affirm it. “I want…I _need_ you to know the whole story, so that everything is out in the open. It’s the only way I can know you’re making an informed decision, the only way I can be comfortable with you staying with me.”

“Seven…”

He waved off her unfinished protest. “I know, you don’t think there’s anything that will change your mind. I hope you’re right, even though that’s unbelievably selfish of me. But still, you have a right to know.”

“I will always listen to anything that you have to say. You can talk to me about anything…but just know that I will wait until you’re ready, if you need time. I’ll always wait for you.” She smiled at him, shifting another piece of the bandage aside. He was so caught up in looking at her that he didn’t wince as strongly this time.

“Thank you.” He blinked several times, and she had to force herself to look away and focus on what she was supposed to be doing. “Okay, let’s see…where to begin?” he sighed, and his breath stirred the hair resting against her cheek. “My parents were not good people. My father was a politician, and my mother was a monster. We came about when the two met and slept together, starting an extramarital affair. I don’t know if she did it on purpose or not, but eventually she got pregnant and disappeared. She had us, identical twins, and then showed back up to blackmail my father into paying her to keep her mouth shut about us. He’s a family man, you see. Children outside of his marriage would be bad for re-election.” His voice was tainted with bitter disdain, and she used the moment of emotion to pull another section of the cloth free. She was getting close to the actual wound, and she hoped his story would be enough to distract him from the pain that it would cause to expose the injury to air and water.

He continued, his voice falling flat as he recited the facts of his life. “I don’t think our mother ever saw us as more than a meal ticket. She was never warm, or caring. She was downright hateful to Saeran. Think of the worst abuse that you can imagine, and multiply it by a hundred, and those were the things she did to him. I don’t know why she chose to treat him worse than she did me, but I always wished it was the other way around. I wished that I could have taken the pain on his behalf.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.” She bit the inside of her cheek, using the pain to keep her from crying, to keep herself in the moment so that he could tell his story.

“Good. I hope you never go through anything that makes you able to imagine such an awful thing. But you don’t have to apologize on behalf of my shitty parents.”

She stopped, taking a moment to press her fingers onto the top of his hand where it rested on the bed. “I’m not apologizing, I’m commiserating. It hurts me that something so terrible happened to you. And Saeran.”

He tilted his head to the side, regarding her with curiosity. “Really? Saeran too?”

“Of course.” She started cleaning his skin again, concentrating on her work. “He’s obviously been through a lot. I knew that before you started telling me your story. I knew that when I met him here.”

“Hm. That’s…not the reaction I expected.”

She rolled her eyes. “What did you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only ever told two other people about this stuff, and…well, Rika just got really angry.” He hissed as she tugged at the bandage, and she backed off, dabbing more water on the spot.

“Well, I’m not angry. Just…sad. I wish…” she blew out a large breath, sending a strand of her hair flitting into the air. “I wish that I knew how to keep people from breaking, because they always seem to go on to break others. If I knew how to put people back together, then maybe we could stop the cycle.” He didn’t say anything for several moments, and she let him lapse into silence. She knew that he was watching her, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. All she herself could think about was all the broken people in the world, trying to put themselves back together by knocking others down. It’s exactly what had happened between her and Jumin. His world had shattered, and in his desperation to repair it he had only put cracks in hers. She’d given him the same right back, so torn up over her past and over Seven, so lost in her own darkness. Maybe it had even been true of her professors. Maybe the only reason they had tried to destroy her was because someone else had destroyed them first. She looked into Seven’s eyes, and in them she saw an end to the cycle. It was possible to rise above, and possible to forgive and repair. He was love and light, and she would do everything in her power to raise that up and keep it thriving. She realized that she very much wanted to hear the rest of his story, to understand every part of him, so that she could keep helping him whenever he needed it. “So, you haven’t gotten to the part where V shows up yet.”

“Right, sorry. So, I used to go to this church in the middle of town. I used to pass by all the time, and I would hear the choir sing and stop and stare at the doors. It always sounded so hopeful. I wanted to absorb some of that hope, so I could take it back home with me. I never went in, though. I don’t even remember why anymore. I would just stop and stand outside, listening to the music. Then one day the doors opened while I was there, and a girl stepped out and saw me.”

She worked quickly, pulling a long section of the cloth off at once, and she could finally see the ragged edges of his wound. He gasped, and she glanced at him apologetically, though she didn’t stop her work. The knife had dragged across his entire middle, and the trail it had left behind was bigger than she had expected. She tried not to think about what would have happened if he had been an inch closer to his brother, or the blade just a bit longer.

He closed his eyes, continuing his story, although his voice wavered as he tried to cope with the pain. “For a second I thought she was going to yell at me for hanging around someplace I wasn’t supposed to, but I guess I looked especially miserable, because her expression changed and she looked concerned. She asked if I wanted to come inside, and I didn’t know how to refuse, so I just nodded and followed her in. She gave me bread, and introduced me to her friend. That was the first time that I ever met Rika and V, and the first time I ever went to church and learned about God. They felt like my own personal angels, sent to give me hope.”

She took in a deep breath. “Zen had mentioned that he thought you were Catholic.” As she exhaled, she tugged at the last of the bandage, pulling it free, and a yelp of pain slipped between Seven’s lips. “Sorry! Sorry!”

He let out a long, slow sigh of relief. “No, it’s fine, I’m glad it’s finally off.” He looked down at his stomach, grimacing at the ragged line sliced through his middle. Now that she could see all of it, she could see that fresh bandages were not going to be enough.

“You need stitches.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed as he clenched his jaw. “I can’t go to a hospital.”

“You can’t just let it get worse, either.” She stood, so that she was looking down at him while she crossed her arms over her chest.

“We can manage with bandages.” He didn’t look away, but remained staring, his eyes narrowed in stubborn resistance. There was no way that she was going to get him to a hospital, although in truth she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She didn’t want to get either Seven or Saeran in trouble with the law. She briefly considered saying that _she_ stabbed him, but she wasn’t sure she could be convincing with that lie, and she doubted that the RFA would let it slide if she were in jail instead of at the party. So, what was the compromise? She couldn’t take him to the hospital, and it wasn’t as though she could stitch him up herself. He had been wearing that dirty rag all day, so the wound probably needed to be cleaned by someone who knew a lot more about disinfecting than she did. She absolutely couldn’t handle coming this far with him, after just getting him back, only to have him die of sepsis because he was stubborn and altruistic. She loved him for both those things, but she wasn’t willing to lose him over it.

That was when it occurred to her that there was a middle ground, after all. The answer was the same as it always was, the same as it always should have been, and she knew exactly what she was going to do. She was done trying to take the world on her shoulders, and she was done being the lone warrior fighting against the tide of her own darkness. She didn’t need to anymore. She had people all around her, and she knew that if they felt the same way about her as she did for them, they would be thrilled for the opportunity to assist.

She plucked her phone out of her pocket, sliding it open and opening the RFA app. Seven narrowed his eyes at her further.

“What are you doing?”

She held up her finger towards him as she hit the call button and put the phone against her ear. He frowned, and she couldn’t resist smirking and sticking her tongue out at him.

It rang twice before the call was picked up on the other end.

“Are you okay?” Jumin’s voice filtered through, deep and rough. He sounded like he had been crying, and she hoped that it was not on her behalf.

“Yes! Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Good. It’s late, are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

She laughed softly. “Well, I guess I should be more specific. _I_ _’m_ fine, but I do need to ask you for a favor.”

“Of course.” He sounded heartened at the very idea, and she knew that she owed him one massive hug next time she saw him. “Anything.”

“I need you to find a doctor that is willing to be discreet.” Silence met her on the other line, and she let it hang for a few moments before she realized that he wasn’t going to respond until she explained further. “Seven is hurt, and we can’t go to the hospital. He needs stitches, and I can’t do it myself.”

“I am uncomfortable with helping him after the way he treated you.”

_Ah, here_ _’s where the uphill battle starts._ She steeled her nerves, hoping that he would be able to find it in himself to listen to her. “Do you trust me?”

There was a short pause, and she heard him sigh. “Yes.”

Her heart hummed with happiness that he could still say that after everything that had happened today. “Then believe me when I tell you that there is an explanation, and that it wasn’t what we thought. And yes, everything will be explained to everyone soon. Right now, I’m still talking things out with him, and I won’t be able to do that if I think he’s going to get worse.”

“Fine. I trust _you,_ but I still have reservations about him. I’ll call Assistant…Jaehee, and ask her to find someone. Please, remember that you are cared for, and that you do not need to forgive him if you do not want to.”

“I know. Thank you, Jumin. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. Send Jaehee the address, and we’ll have someone there as soon as possible. Try to get some rest, okay?”

“You too.” She hung up the call, smirking as Seven scowled at her.

“That was dirty. You don’t play fair.”

She tilted her head back, laughing. “Was it a contest? I was thinking it was a clever compromise.” She walked over to the bed, pulling over the pillows and fluffing them to stand up taller against the headboard of the bed. “Here, lay back.”

He did as instructed, moving as carefully as possible until he was settled against the pile of cushions. She pulled out a handful of the gauze she had gotten from the bathroom and arranged it across the cut, so that it wouldn’t be left open in the air and the blood leaking out of the areas freshly opened would be absorbed by something. Done with her temporary fix, she stepped away and half turned to sit at the edge of the bed, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

“Sorry, I just…I don’t want to let go.”

She smiled, wondering at how he had remained so sweet and kind after all that they had been through. Instead of sitting on the edge of the bed, as she had planned, she hopped up and scooted next to him, leaning against the pillows beside him. In any other situation it might have been awkward to lay in bed next to a shirtless, wounded man, but for now it felt like it was where she was supposed to be. She pressed her shoulder against his, smiling at him and feeling at peace.

She sent a quick text to Jaehee with the address for the apartment, then put the phone to sleep and stuffed it back in her pocket, looking at Seven. “So, Catholic?”

“Yeah. Mostly. There are tenants that I could leave or take, but I grew close with God. For a long time faith was the only thing I was allowed to have for myself. When everything else was gone, God would still be there. It was comforting. What about you?”

She settled more comfortably into the pillows. “I believe…I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that each person has their own destiny to fulfill. I believe that being a good person and loving as many people as I can will lead me down the correct path, no matter what happens after I die. I believe that faith is what it needs to be for each person, except when it’s clouded by fear. I don’t know if any of that makes me religious or not, but I would like to think that I have my own sort of faith.”

“Not so different from me, then. We just have a lot of names in Latin for most of it.”

“I do know some Latin, you know.”

He smirked. “Apertis requiescit cor meum, exspecto amoris influeret.”

Her mouth dropped open as she recognized the words she had memorized until they were tattooed into her soul. “Was that…? ‘My heart still rests wide open, waiting for love to flow in’.”

“Your song, of course. Did you think I hadn’t paid attention?”

“Well…yeah, I guess. Not many people can remember Latin that easily.”

“I’m not most people. Besides, listening to the song kind of made me want to learn Latin. Seems like it would be neat to know.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not like most people.” She leaned her head over, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “So, you met Rika and V. Do you want to tell me what happened next?”

He kissed the top of her head, his breath tickling her scalp. “Of course. After I met them I went to the church almost every day, and they gave me books and things. I had to keep them hidden from my mother, but I had gotten good at that over the years. Rika got interested in teaching me about computers. She said I had a knack for it. I was good at it, and I liked doing it, so I never protested. V told me I could make a lot of money if I learned how to code, so I pursued it enthusiastically. I got good enough that V and Rika found odd jobs that I could do for people here and there, small time hacking. I started saving up all the money I made, stuffing it in a small box that V hid for me in the back of the church. I had this idea that, when I had enough, I could take Saeran and run away.” His words grew heavy as he continued, weighed down with the sadness that he had felt in the past, still lingering in the present. “But it wasn’t so easy. Money wasn’t the only thing we needed. Our father was always trying to find us, sending people to tail us. My mother said he wanted us dead, and I don’t think she was lying about it. Not that, at least. I used to stay up late worrying about how I would get us out and keep us protected, but I never found any answers that way. Rika and V had known something was wrong from the minute they met me, and eventually they got the whole story out of me. They were my first friends, my only friends, so I confided everything to them. They knew the whole, awful truth.”

“It sounds like they were really there for you.” She frowned, thinking of all the times she had interacted with V. He had been vague, but she had never gotten a sense of selfishness or evil from him. The man that she had chatted with, and the man that the other RFA members had described, didn’t seem to match up with the man that Seven insisted they shouldn’t trust, the man that Saeran had disparaged so passionately. Where was the disconnect? What was the piece of the puzzle that explained the discrepancies?

“I thought they were. I thought everything they had done was in my best interests, and Saeran’s. Now when I look back I can’t help but think I was an idiot.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

He breathed a weak laugh. “Wait until the end of the story to make those kinds of judgments. So, one day V approached me and said there was a job. A special job. He said that I could become part of an agency, and they would give me a new life and a new identity. I’d get to go to school, I’d get to be free of my mother, I’d get to work with computers all the time. He warned me that it would be risky, but I didn’t care. I was so excited to think of having all those things, things that I had always thought were impossible for me and Saeran. Except…there was a catch. I couldn’t bring Saeran with me.”

“That’s terrible! How could he expect you to do that?”

“That’s what I said. I told him no, at first. But he kept asking, and Rika was very persuasive when she talked to me about considering it. I told them that I could never leave Saeran, though. He was the only person in the world that I loved, the only one that needed me. I could never walk away from him just for my own future.” His voice cracked, and she slid her hand in his, twining their fingers together. He squeezed her hand, and the pressure was reassuring to them both. “Then one day Rika and V told me they had an idea. They said that if I gave them part of the money the agency was going to give me that they would use it to rescue Saeran after I was safely away. They swore that they would give him a good life, better than I would be able to on shit payments from small time hacking jobs. They painted a grand picture, a bright future for him that could be even better than the one I would get. Rika vowed that she would tell Saeran everything, too. That she would make sure he understood why I had left. She said that it was God’s plan for me.” He swallowed, taking a shuddering breath. “I believed her. I believed V when he said he would protect Saeran. I drank up every word they gave me.”

“So you joined the agency.”

He nodded. “I joined the agency. Turns out it was a very exclusive spy network. They did put me through college, and they did provide a new identity, but it wasn’t exactly the promise land that I had imagined. My life was in peril every day that I was working for them, because there was always another agency or group after our secrets, after our jobs, or out for revenge. I knew people that disappeared, never to be seen again. We didn’t talk about it out loud, but we all knew that when someone was gone it was because they had been killed. That was the life that I had accepted, though, and I came to terms with it. I could never get close to anyone, I could never have a family. Every friend I made would always be temporary because of what I did. To be honest, I never minded it that much. Sure, it was lonely, but every time I thought of Saeran living happily, I could push through. I could live depressed forever if it meant that he could find joy.” He cleared his throat, his voice raw with his emotions. “Then you showed up. From the second I saw you, things felt different. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to spend all my time talking to you. I wanted to meet you, and for the first time there was someone out there that I wanted in my life. No matter how hard I tried to stop it, no matter how bad I felt about it, I couldn’t help but fall for you. I was helpless.”

A tear worked its way out of the corner of her eye, slipping down her cheek. She snuggled closer to him, squeezing his hand tighter. “I felt the same.”

“I had hoped so…but then you got in more danger, and I felt like it was all my fault. If I hadn’t been so caught up in how I felt about you, maybe I would have been better at my job. Maybe I could have stopped things. It took me too long to figure out what Saeran had been doing, and when I did all I could think of was saving you. So I ran to your rescue…but I had to hit Mary Vanderwood over the head with my bag to do it. And since she was my partner through the agency and not my maid, this meant I was going against the agency, forfeiting my life.”

She sat up, her mouth dropping open as her heart thundered to a halt. “Oh my god, I didn’t know…I would have never let you…”

“Yeah, and then you would have been tossed out the window or blown up.” He gripped her hand, shaking his head. “I don’t regret it, not even a little bit. I would make the same choice every time. But that’s why…that’s why when I got here I was so cold to you. I knew that I was going to be hunted until I was killed, and I didn’t want that for you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt anymore because of me. It was better that I hurt your feelings than let you get killed.” He surprised her by chuckling, a small smile curling the left side of his mouth. “You were very resistant to that plan. You’re very stubborn, you know.”

She tilted her chin up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Well, it was a bad plan.”

“True.” He chuckled again, but it turned into something sad and mirthless in the middle, a strangled sob half born from airless lungs. “God, it killed me to treat you like that. I just wanted to hold you the entire time I was here. But I was so convinced that all I could do was bring you pain, to drag you down into the darkness with me. I couldn’t live with that. So I made a huge mistake. I told a lie.”

“I remember. So, you didn’t know about what happened at all when you…when you said…”

“No.” His answer was firm, stopping her from falling back into the memory, stopping her from dwelling on one of the most heartbreaking moments she had ever lived through. “I just, I knew it was something you were afraid of, and I used that against you. I honestly thought I would be doing you a favor. When I found out…I had half an apology typed out, to send into the chatroom, but I deleted it. I thought it would be so much better for you if you hated me. I thought you would hate me and forget about me. I didn’t realize…I never imagined that you might feel the same way about me that I felt about you.”

“I think…I hadn’t put it into words yet, but I think I was in love with you from that first night. You made me smile, and not the fake smile that I wore around to be polite, but a _real_ smile. I hadn’t had one in three weeks. All I wanted to do was talk to you, to see you in the chatroom and pester you on the phone. I was lost the minute I found you, and when you held me after Saeran ran away, I believed that everything was going to be okay.” She wiped an errant tear from her cheek, holding his hand and his gaze. “I won’t lie, that day and a half after you let me go was hell. I thought I was going insane, and the only thing I could think about was what I could have done to make you hate me. When you lied about what you knew, it confirmed every fear I’ve ever had. I felt worthless. I felt like I had been wrong for saying no to my professor, and that I would forever be tainted by what had happened. I knew that I would never find happiness because of what had happened to me, and that if someone like you hated me then I must be worthy of that hate.”

Tears broke through his lashes, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. “I’m so sorry. I can never apologize enough. There’s no excuse for what I did, and I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t forgive me for it.”

“That’s part of the problem, though. I think I had forgiven you before I even got angry. I thought that if I could just talk to you, just explain things, then I could bring you back. I didn’t care what you had said, the only thing I cared about was making it better. Even being trapped in an apartment while you were so cold to me was better than being without you.”

He let go of her hand, grabbing her cheeks and tilting her head up. “Don’t think like that. I hurt you, and you should be mad at me for that. You _can_ be mad about it. If you aren’t because you’re afraid I’ll leave again, then you shouldn’t be. I’m not going anywhere without you unless you ask me to. I love you, and I don’t ever want to hurt you again for as long as I live.”

She leaned forward, kissing him for all she was worth, wrapping her hands around his neck to bring him closer. His arms draped around her shoulders, holding her tightly as they spoke volumes without words. She wanted to say that she loved him, but the words weren’t enough. They were meager in comparison to the depth of the way she felt about him, inadequate to express the way her heart pounded, the way her chest expanded, the way her thoughts rushed around in her head. It was love, but it was more than that, a connection between them that had been undeniable since they had first spoken, something drawing them together that was impossible to resist. It was the love of stories, the love of legends, and it had overcome common sense and danger and lies, climbing the obstacles to be bright and pure on the other side.

Her lips released his, her eyes locking on his as they fluttered open. “I love you, and I do forgive you. Not because I missed you, and not because I’m scared you’ll leave, but because I know you mean it when you say you’re sorry.”

“Thank you, Nicky.”

She sighed, settling back against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat through his skin. “You know, I would say you definitely owe the rest of the RFA members a few thanks and apologies as well. I broke down and told them everything, because I thought you were going to reveal it, and I was so convinced that they would hate me too…but they were so adamant about protecting me that it broke through the self-loathing. I believed them, and that let me hold on a little longer, and survive until now.”

He chuckled. “I know. I did love them a bit for how much they hated me, even though it hurt. I thought you would be in good hands with them.”

“I was. It wasn’t perfect, but they tried their best. Jumin isn’t a villain, he was just confused, as were the rest of us.”

“I know, and I don’t resent him for it. We’ll have to have a lot of long talks about things, and from now on no more secrets, but I think the RFA will get through it.”

There was a knock at the door, making them both jump, but when she realized it was the doctor she hopped up and rushed into the living room. She unlocked the door and cracked it open, seeing a short man in his mid-forties holding a black bag and a mighty scowl on his face.

“Nicolette, I presume?” he huffed the words as though irritation were his largest personality trait. “Jumin Han sent me, now let me in so I can get this over with and get back to bed.”

She did as she was told, widening the opening so that he could enter. He stalked in and looked around the apartment, then proceeded to walk down the hallway when he saw no one in the living room. She heard Seven yelp in surprise before she hurried back there herself, hoping that the doctor could help without asking any questions.

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Jumin.

**Nicolette: Doctor is here, thank you for everything. I know it** **’s late, but can you wait up for us? We should be getting online soon, and I want to talk to everyone at once. Pass this along, if you can.**

 

She put her phone back in her pocket, walking into the bedroom, and then focused her attention on being there for Seven while he was treated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I disappeared for a few days there, we will resume our regularly scheduled FEELINGS train from this point forward. But I did want to say...
> 
> To anyone living in the US, or scared about what's happening in the US, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I've been pretty emotionally devastated about our election, and I'm heartbroken that someone as hateful as Cheetos Benitos has been elected to lead us. I'm sorry that we have failed so profoundly that we let things get this bad. 
> 
> I want all of you to know that this fic, and all the spaces I inhabit online, are safe spaces, and accepting spaces. If you need help, or you need someone to talk to, or you need a way to escape, please don't hesitate to reach out to me. I'm doing what I can to fight the terrible things that are on the horizon, to prevent them from getting worse than they already are. I love all of you guys, and I am going to do everything in my power to protect those that need it. 
> 
> If you need to reach me, you can find me on twitter as @zombolouge
> 
> Here's my tumblr URL: http://zombolouge.tumblr.com/
> 
> And here was the post I made on the night of the election, which covers my feelings a bit more succinctly: http://zombolouge.tumblr.com/post/152941381849/of-hope
> 
> All I have to offer in this fight are my words, but I'm going to do my best to find ways to use them effectively. I hope that I can do right by all of you, and I hope everyone stays safe. 
> 
> <3


	38. Saeyoung Choi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more exposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this was all supposed to be a brief interlude before the next chapter and it has clearly gotten OUT OF HAND. YIKES. 
> 
> Also, with this update this is officially the LONGEST fic in the MM fandom here on AO3. *throws confetti* Thanks to all of you who have bothered reading ALL OF THESE WORDS. SO MANY. AND IT ISN'T EVEN DONE. 
> 
> I apologize for my inability to shorten things. XD

She hadn’t let go of his hand once, even though he was sure it had gone numb sometime between the tenth and seventieth stitch because he had been crushing her palm into his. He had tried a couple of times to ease up, but then the needle was punched through his skin and it was all he could do to bite his tongue and keep himself from screaming. Doctors that showed up in the middle of the night didn’t come equipped with strong enough anesthetic to ease that sort of pain, as it had turned out. Still, she hadn’t complained, she hadn’t pulled away. She sat next to him on the bed, holding his hand, occasionally brushing his hair away from his face, while all he could do was grimace and try not to jerk away.

When the doctor had finally finished, and started wrapping him in bandages, he felt ready to pass out. This had been one of the most exhausting days of his life, and he had been drained of everything he had just to survive it. Still, there was more to be done, so no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t drag her under the covers with him and curl up for the greatest sleep of his life. There were still more things he had to tell her, still more things that she needed to understand.

It was a miracle to him that she was still there. After hearing what he had spent the past few years of his life doing, he had been certain that she would change her mind about how she felt about him. His past was too much for him to bear himself on most days, and it was unthinkable that someone else could stomach it. That’s why he had always kept it hidden. It was so much better to be the bright, cheerful person when others were looking. At least he could cheer them up, even if he couldn’t ask for the same in return.

He watched as the doctor packed up his supplies, his surly face barely acknowledging the other people in the room. For so long he had felt like he was unacknowledged. Even amongst friends, they only saw the surface, the parts of him that he carefully curated for them. They had never seen the man that laid awake at night, staring at his ceiling and trying to count the lives he might have ended with his last job. Or the man who spent an extra hour in the shower because he wanted to pretend that the warmth of the water was enough to replace the warmth of other people. Or the man that had cried himself to sleep on more than one occasion because the only consistent in his life was God, and God was a friend that could never return his messages.

The doctor turned a baleful eye towards Nicky. “Change the bandages every day, and don’t rip the stitches.”

She opened her mouth to say goodbye, but he stomped off before she could get a word out, disappearing down the hall. A second later they heard the door open and close, and she looked over at him, flabbergasted.

“He was charming.” He said.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, he didn’t ask you any questions, right?”

He laughed, and the pain wasn’t enough to make him flinch any longer after the harrowing experience of getting stitches sans numbing agents. “Jumin really came through.”

She scooted across the bed, grabbing his arm and tucking herself underneath it, curving herself to fit alongside him. “He did. We owe him one.”

He pulled her tighter, bringing his other arm around to brush a strand of hair away from her shoulder. “Or we could consider it even, since I think he owed you one for locking you in his apartment for an entire day.”

“You’re gonna hold that against him for a while, aren’t you?” she nestled her head against his neck, and he inhaled the different scents drifting off her hair. There must have been fruit extract of some kind in whatever shampoo she used, because she smelled delicious.

“You did call me sobbing because you were terrified he was going to hurt you, if you recall.”

She sighed. “I know. I just…I understand where it was coming from.”

“I know. So do I. That doesn’t mean we let it slide.” His fingers traced circles along her waist, brushing along the wrinkles in her shirt.

“So, I have a question.” She pressed her palm over his chest, as though she wanted to feel his heartbeat while they spoke, as though she needed proof that he was alive. A pang of guilt swept through him for making her worry, and another because he knew it wouldn’t be the last time. “Why did you trust V and Rika so blindly? I mean, I understand that they were your friends, but if it concerned your brother I’m surprised you just took their word for it.”

“I didn’t.” He thought of the floppy disk, still in his jacket pocket, a relic of a beautiful story that had never been true. “I begged them for information after I left. I wasn’t supposed to know; I wasn’t supposed to have any ties to him or my old life. It would have been a liability for Saeran if I knew, because if someone wanted to get to me they could find out about him and use him against me. The less I knew, the safer he would be. But I needed proof that he was happy, I needed to see it, to know that everything that I had given up had been worth it. Rika always talked me down about it, but it would always come back up. So finally she caved, and she sent me a disk with pictures saved on it. I had to keep it hidden from Vanderwood, but it became the only thing I owned that was precious to me.”

“What was in the pictures?”

“Him. He would have been in high school around the time they were taken, so they were a little old, but he looked so happy in them that I knew they must have kept their promise.” He thought of all the times that he had snuck the disk out to look at the pictures, all the different things that he had imagined his brother getting to enjoy. They had always calmed him when things had gotten the darkest. “Do you want to see them?”

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes widening. “Yes. I mean, if that’s alright.”

“Of course.” He kissed the tip of her nose before disentangling his arm, climbing off the bed with measured movements so that he didn’t agitate his injuries. “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, okay?”

She laughed and rolled her eyes, and it was one of the sweetest sounds that he had ever heard. He padded out of the room and towards the door. His things were still in the back of the car, as he hadn’t had the presence of mind to bring them up earlier. He was halfway across the path in front of the kitchen when he paused, turning and walking onto the tile floor. The trash can was still pulled out and sitting in the middle of the area, exactly where he had left it when he’d yanked it out of place. He peered over the edge, seeing the polished white metal glittering in the bottom, on top of the heaps of broken glass and papers. He spared a quick glance toward the bedroom, ensuring that she couldn’t see him, before he reached in and fished out the pieces of the cat robot. He turned them over in his hands, the metal cold. One of the legs had come undone, the screw holding it in place bent out of shape from the force that he had thrown it, but otherwise it had survived his fit of melancholic rage. He took the pieces with him as he resumed his path to the door, carrying them under his arm as he opened it and exited.

The hallway was empty, the elevator waiting for him, and he was in the quiet lobby as quickly as he could have hoped. He opened the gleaming glass doors, and the frigid air snapped against his skin. He shuddered, hunching over himself and cursing the fact that all his shirts were in his bag. He should have grabbed the bloodstained one and worn that, to keep from shivering hard enough to burst his stitches. He wasted no further time running to the car, fishing his keys out of his jeans and unlocking the door. Inside, which was only vaguely warmer, he set the robot in the front seat and reached into the back to grab his bag.

He briefly considered skipping the shirt, and his cheeks stopped feeling like ice as a burning blush worked its way across them. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed laying with her and feeling her directly against his skin, feeling the heat of her fingers as they traced the space above his heart. Still, tonight was not the night for that. It put ideas in his head that he couldn’t indulge, because he still needed to finish his story. He could never be with her the way he wanted to be, to be as close to her as he wanted to be, unless he knew that she was accepting all of him. The charming Seven that she had met in the RFA, the distant Luciel who had believed V and Rika were his saviors, and the much darker Saeyoung, who had scars across his heart.

He rifled through the things in the bag until he found a rumpled t-shirt, and he threw it over his head before setting the bag between the two front seats. He reached over it and grabbed the robot, then dug out a small screwdriver from the front pocket of the bag. He frowned as he started reassembling the parts. The bent screw was going to be a problem, and he wasn’t sure if he had another one. He focused on attaching the other parts first, finishing the job of connecting the head. The ribbon was a bit tattered, since it had caught on some of the glass in the trashcan, but he tied it around the neck all the same. He clicked on the power button at the edge of the motherboard before he closed the panel on the stomach. Then he reached into his bag, groping through the pockets and praying that he would have a spare screw in one of them.

He was in luck, it would seem. In the front, nestled next to the diary that he had stolen, was a single loose screw. He lifted it, examining it in the moonlight, and he was relieved to see that it was the right size. He adjusted the socket for the leg, slid it in place, and added the screw. He tested the functionality of all the limbs manually, and when he was satisfied that nothing was going to fall apart, he hit the power button. Light flared to life behind the blue tinted lenses over the eyes, and the head turned towards him, ears twitching as the sensors picked up his presence.

“Meow! Hello! Which program would you like me to initiate, meow?” the tail at the end of the chassis swished back and forth.

“Command code. Initiate program: Nicky.”

The fans inside the little body whirred into life, and the eyes flickered for a moment as though the cat were blinking. “Program activated. My sensors do not detect the presence of my master, meow. Powering down until voice command from Nicky has been received, meow.” The blue glow in the eyes faded and the body ceased movement. He grinned to himself, glad that he had worked on the stupid project as long as he had, even if it had felt so pointless at the time. He tucked the robot in the top of his bag, and then carefully slung it over his shoulder, heading back towards the building.

The concrete was icy against his bare feet, but he still stopped before he entered the doors, looking up at the sky. It was around one in the morning at this point, and the city was silent. The lights in most of the buildings had been shut off, and so the stars above felt brighter. It looked like someone had spilled glitter across a pool of ink, a million points of light burning in the darkness. He reached his hand up, splaying his fingers as though he could touch them, and this time they didn’t seem so far out of his reach. He imagined that he could stand on his tip toes and pluck his favorites, keeping the brightest to place in her heart. She deserved to wear the stars, to be draped in their soft light so that they could shine together, brilliant and unwavering no matter how many times the sun or the night tried to blot them out.

He hoped that he could give her that. He hoped that, if she accepted him, he could give her everything that she ever wanted and more. She had said that he was the first to make her smile since her friends had been so cruel. He was so honored to know that he could add that accomplishment to his name, that he had been able to bring her joy when the world had failed. He wanted to be that for her forever, to be the one that could remind her of laughter in the middle of the deep darkness. He had no idea how he could accomplish that, because there was no way that he could ever feel worthy of filling such a role, but he would give everything he had to come as close as he could. As Seven, or Luciel, or even Saeyoung. He would give all his pieces to her, if only to make her smile.

He walked through the doors and headed back into the elevator, moving as quickly as he could through the building. He wasn’t sure how long he had been gone, so he had to hurry. When he arrived at the door he punched in the code, pushing it open and slipping through. He fished the robot out of the bag and set it on the kitchen counter, out of sight from the hallway. Then he walked into the bedroom with his bag in tow.

She had curled up against the pile of pillows, her feet crossed and tucked beneath her. She was brushing her hair, and he watched as she dragged the brush through her shoulder length waves, rippling like red ribbons. It was strange that such a simple task could become so profoundly beautiful when she did it, so awe inspiring. Every time he saw her do anything it awoke new depths of love and appreciation from him. Would that ever fade? Would there ever be a time where walking into the room and seeing her there would stop taking his breath away? He doubted it.

She set the brush down and smiled at him, and his heart skipped several beats as he walked up to the bed. “You found a shirt, I see.”

He blushed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling like a child. “Yeah, I had some in my bag.” He dropped the bag from his shoulder and tossed it on the bed, then turned and picked his discarded jacket off the floor. He dug through the pockets until he found the disk, and then put it between his teeth while he crawled back onto the bed. He flipped open the bag and pulled out his laptop, opening the screen and positioning it in his lap as he settled next to her. He pulled the disk out of his mouth and popped it into the special drive on the computer, then typed in the password to unlock his profile. She leaned against his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but kiss the top of her head again. He would spend every second of every day kissing her if he could, and he hoped there would come a time in their future where that was possible.

An alert popped up on the screen, asking if he wanted to view the files on the disk, and he clicked the affirmative. A window for the folder holding the files opened, and he clicked each one of the pictures open. Saeran’s face filled the screen, each image a piece of evidence that he had looked at hundreds of times, memorizing his happiness as proof that his sacrifice had been worth it. Blue eyes full of wonder as a butterfly flitted above his head. Smile wide as the breeze tussled the hair above his eyes. Fingers cupped around a small, yellow flower, a giggle in his bright gaze.

When he tore his eyes away from the screen and looked at Nicky, he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Are…are you okay?”

She blinked, sniffing and trying to clear her eyes. “Sorry, I just…he looks so happy.”

“I know.” He wrapped his arm around her, hugging her close, and she threw her arm across his chest. “I used to look at them all the time, and it always made me feel better that he must have led a good life in order to look this happy in the pictures.”

“Okay, so maybe…maybe Rika and V didn’t lie then. Maybe they did save him, but something else happened later.” She sounded so hopeful, as though she wished with all she was that the Saeran in the pictures was real. It broke his heart and saved it all at one, and he closed his eyes at the tide of emotions swirling in his head.

“I had hoped for that, too. But…he said…” he choked on the overwhelming sorrow welling up inside of him, ruining his words. Years. If the diary was accurate, Saeran had been left behind and trapped for years. Forgotten and alone. “From what I saw, that wasn’t the case. I don’t know how Rika got these pictures, but he wasn’t rescued after I left.”

She wrapped her arms around him tighter, holding him like she thought he might split apart. “I would like to know what happened after I left the apartment, if that’s okay.”

“Well, first I cried a lot. Then I packed up my things, then I logged into the chatroom and saw the consequences of my stupid lie, then I dry heaved on the floor for a while.” He listed everything flippantly, but the memory still hung over his head like an ominous cloud. He could never, ever express enough how truly sorry he was for his actions.

“Stop making yourself feel guilty. I forgive you. I want you to stop feeling bad about it.” She kissed the base of his jawline and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

“You shouldn’t…but I suppose I shouldn’t argue with you if it means you’ll stick around longer.” He sighed, and she kissed him again in the same spot. He felt like his nerves were charged with electricity, his skin thrumming with energy. He forced himself to take a long, slow breath. “In any case, I had found information on this weird ass organization all over this apartment, hidden in some of the files that were ripped out of the desk. Since you told me that the logo on the documents was the same one in the email you had received with the RFA app, I made a guess that Saeran had something to do with the organization. I did some digging, broke into a couple encrypted servers, and eventually found an address. So I packed up my gear, went for a very long drive, and snuck in their back door.”

She sat up, frowning at him. “By yourself?”

“Yes. I mean, it wasn’t exactly my first time doing something like this, but I also wasn’t thinking of the danger. I thought I was a dead man walking. I was on the run from a powerful spy network, and I had just crushed the heart of the love of my life.” He was pleased when a flush draped across her cheeks at his words, and he kissed the middle of her forehead. “At the time I didn’t think I had any reason left to live. My plan was to get in, get Saeran free, and then let my boss find me and kill me.”

Her grip around his chest tightened, her eyes shining brighter. “I’m so glad it didn’t happen that way.”

He smiled, but he didn’t feel like it reached beyond his lips. “I am too, at least right now. None of the things in my plan panned out the way that I had wanted them to. I got there and Saeran _hated_ me, so much that I couldn’t even get him to listen to me. He thinks that I just abandoned him, and left him trapped with our mother for years…until someone he calls the Savior showed up and rescued him. That must be who dragged him into that awful organization…and it _is_ awful. I flipped through one of their books before he caught me in the control room, and they’re some kind of religious cult that preaches about chains and control. I tried to talk him down, but I couldn’t get through to him. I pushed it a step to far, and he pulled a knife and cut me, then he ran away. The door locked behind him, so I couldn’t get out, although I didn’t really try. I sat down on the floor, fully prepared to just let myself bleed to death, because I couldn’t think of a damn reason to go on anymore. Saeran hated me. I thought you hated me. I had failed everyone that I had ever tried to help.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You, of course. I decided that the last thing I wanted to do was apologize to you. So that you didn’t…I didn’t want you to think less of yourself. I wanted you to at least know that I didn’t hate you because of what happened to you. Even though I knew it was selfish, I thought that maybe if I confessed you would hate me without having any misconceptions about yourself. I figured I could at least get that much right in my final act.” Her hold on him was crushing, but he didn’t care. He wanted her as close as possible, always, even if it stole the breath from his lungs. It felt good to have her holding on to him as he described the moment that he had almost let go. “So I downloaded the RFA app again, and I got your messages. Then…everything changed again. I had never dreamed that you would still be sending me messages, that you would still be trying to talk to me after what I had done. I couldn’t fathom that you said you _missed_ me. I thought that leaving you behind would mean that you would get to be happy, but you sounded like you were in so much pain…and I knew that I couldn’t possibly die if that was the case. So I god up, and then Yoosung scared the shit out of me.”

She laughed, a burst of surprised mirth amidst the tears that flowed down her face. “Yoosung? When did he show up?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “He got some LOLOL friend of his to track the GPS on my phone. He didn’t believe that I never wanted to see you again, so he was going to find me and talk some sense to me. His friend located me, and because of the hacking that I had done to break my way into the building, the security system was mostly offline. They got access to the cameras, and saw me stuck in the room. It was pretty impressive, actually, but I’ll let Yoosung tell you the specifics because I’m sure he is going to talk about it non-stop for the rest of our lives. But it was thanks to him that I got out, and I was able to escape and get to you.”

“Yoosung…it makes me so happy that he had that much faith in you.” She smiled warmly, overcome with joy.

He rolled his eyes. “He _shouldn_ _’t_ have, what I did was terrible, remember?”

“And a lie. He knew you were lying, which makes him a good friend, so don’t you dare tease him for being foolish.” Her voice was stern, and he couldn’t help but laugh, kissing her on the lips to prevent further protest.

“Yes, dear.” He murmured the words against her skin before he pulled back, grinning like an idiot. “Anyways, I ran into V on my way out of the compound. I have no idea how he knew where it was, but he was there. I exchanged a few words with him and told him that I never wanted to see him again, then raced to Jumin’s apartment. The head security guard let me in because even he could tell ‘Mr. Han’ had lost a few of his marbles, and, well, you know the rest from there.”

She blew out a gusty sigh, her breath brushing lightly against his cheek. “Well, I suppose right now I only have one question.” She looked at him, and her eyes were serious and stern, her mouth set in a grim line. He was terrified of what she would say, terrified that it had been too much after all. That his only chance to ever love would be taken from him because of the scars across his past. He stopped breathing as he waited for her to speak, everything hinging on this next question, “Where do we go from here?”

_We._ She said we. He kissed her again, this time unable to stop the passion and love pouring from his lips and into hers, tears breaking free from his eyes and soaking both their faces. “You said ‘we’.” He peppered her with more kisses in between the words, his relief overwhelming to him as it flooded his heart. “You aren’t leaving me, you want to stay, you said ‘we’.”

She wound her hands up around the side of his face, holding him still as she returned his affection. “Of course. I love you, and I always will.”

“I love you too. I don’t know what to say, I don’t think I really believed you would want to stay, I love you so much.”

When she kissed him, he felt more whole than he had felt in years. He felt like he no longer had to look up and reach for the stars, because they had come down from the heavens to rest in his arms. He had done nothing to deserve such a gift, nothing in his life worth bliss and love of this magnitude, but here it was. For reasons that he would never understand, Nicky had found her way to him, and she loved him just as he loved her. A million things had gone wrong since the day he was born, a parade of darkness that had nearly swallowed him, but with this one shining moment all of that seemed to fade. She filled him with a sense of belonging, she filled him with a sense of purpose, and more than all of that she filled him with hope. Hope that perhaps there was a happily ever after out there for him. Hope that if he fought hard enough, and loved hard enough, he could have a future that didn’t feel empty. He wasn’t alone. After all this time, after all the things he had done, after all the people he had lost, he finally wasn’t alone.

She laughed, interrupting their celebration as she tried to breathe around him. He trailed his kisses along her jawline as her mirth rang in his ears, music far sweater than any church choir could have produced.

“Seven, slow down, we still have things to take care of tonight, remember?”

_Seven._ He had been Agent 707 for years now, but it no longer held the same meaning to him as it once had. Seven was the man that hid who he was, and he didn’t want to be that man after this. He had been Luciel as well, to help hide from his past, to give himself a personality that didn’t remind him of the filthy work he had to perform every day. Still, that had been a lie, too. It was a name to remind him of how far he would fall, a name to remind him that darkness was always in his future, and he didn’t want to be that either. He had just recited his entire life story, and she had accepted all of it, and accepted him. He didn’t want to hide who he was any longer, and he was tired of running from his past.

He nuzzled the side of her neck, breathing in the warmth of her skin. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Hm?” her voice hummed against his lips as he hovered near her throat. He pulled back, so that he could see her beautiful eyes, the flecks of green streaked across the amber as bright as they had ever been.

“Will you…can you call me Saeyoung?”

“Saeyoung.” She whispered the name like it was a prayer, the vowels rolling off her tongue like poetry. He liked the way it sounded when she said it.

“I know you know me as Seven, and I’ve been Luciel to some of the other RFA members, but…I thought that leaving behind my real name would make it easier, would make me better able to hide who I was. It only ever brought me pain when I heard it, so I thought hiding from it would make that pain go away. But hiding things is exhausting, and running from them even more so. I’m done with that. So, I want you to know the real me, and call me by my real name. That way…that way when I hear it, I can think of you saying it, and replace the pain with something better.”

She sighed, smiling down at him as he lay against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “I would be honored, Saeyoung.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, before you get me distracted again, you didn’t answer my question. What’s next for us? I…I don’t want to push you, but I think we need to find your brother again.”

“You do?” he blinked, shifting so that he could sit up and look at her properly. “I mean, that is what I have to do, but I’m surprised that you agree. You really don’t hate him, do you?”

“He’s sick. I can’t hate him for being sick. Whatever happened, whatever he went through and is still going through, its hurting him so much that he can’t see reason. He could hurt himself or someone else if we don’t try to help him, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“You really are something else. How is it that you can go through everything you’ve been through, and still be full of so much love?”

She pressed the tip of her nose against his, smirking at him. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“It’s not the same.” He shook his head, unable to understand her endless capacity for compassion. “But thank you for being…you.” He cleared his throat, and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “I have some things to take care of first, but I think going back to that compound and looking for Saeran is going to be high on my priority list. I need to get the agency off my tail first, but after that I want to go back there and try again. I…”  he hesitated, unsure how she would take his next bit of news, but the encouraging look in her gaze gave him courage. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go to the party tomorrow. I don’t know how you feel about that, but…if you really do want to come with me, we’ll have to leave as soon as possible in the morning, before someone tracks me down.”

“Alright. I think most everything is in place, so Jaehee should be able to take care of hosting. And before you start apologizing, because I can already see the guilt in your eyes, I don’t feel bad about it. It would have been nice to see everyone in person, but there will be time for that later. First, we save your brother. Then we can throw another party to celebrate.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Saeyoung, I’m happy as long as I’m with you. Don’t ever forget that.”

He kissed her, this time slowly, letting the taste of her breath linger on his lips before he pulled away. “I suppose it’s time we tell everyone else, then?”

She grinned, mischief glinting in her eyes. “They’ve been waiting in the chatroom since Jumin sent for the doctor, I might have checked in briefly while you were going to the car.”

“How mad is everyone?” he grimaced, peering at her with one eye as though he could hide from the daunting task of explaining things to everyone else.

“Well, Yoosung is on your side, at least. But you’re still probably going to have to grovel a little.”

He laughed, kissing the side of her head as he pulled his computer back into his lap, opening the chatroom. “Well then, I suppose I should get started.”

She tucked herself in the crook of his arm, pulling her phone out and flipping to the RFA app. She looked up at him, and she was radiant with love and hope, shining brighter than all the stars in the sky combined. “Everything will work out, Saeyoung. I know it.”

A week ago he would have scoffed at the idea of any of this, and he certainly wouldn’t have had the mental capacity to hope for anything beyond disaster. But now, in this moment, with the girl of his dreams promising him the world, he had more than hope. Coming from her, the promise was actually feasible, and for the first time in his miserable life, Saeyoung Choi believed it.


	39. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which apologies are distributed evenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys sick of fluff yet? I sure hope not. ^_^

She opened the chatroom, grinning so widely that her face hurt, knowing that everything was going to be okay. She knew it without a doubt. It didn’t matter what would come, or what trials would await them, because they were together now. Everything was on the table, out in the open, no more secrets between them, and it had made their connection stronger. She would fight tooth and nail to keep that, and do whatever it took to ensure that he knew how much she loved him, and how much he deserved a bright and happy future.

****

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: THEY** **’RE HERE**

**ZEN: About damn time.**

**Yoosung: Zen you promised to listen -_-**

**ZEN: And I will. And then I** **’ll start yelling.**

**Nicolette: Evening boys. Hi Jumin, Hi Jaehee.**

**Jaehee: Hello! Are you well?**

**Nicolette: I** **’m good. Very good. Amazing, actually.**

**Jumin: Are you certain?**

**ZEN: We all know where that damn apartment is now, I can be there in thirty minutes.**

**Yoosung: I could be there in less time, Jumin** **’s place is closer.**

**Jumin: Yes, Yoosung, please go. Now.**

**Nicolette: Yoosung is there? O.o**

**Yoosung: It** **’s a long story. I had his cat.**

**Nicolette: ELIZABETH IS OKAY?!?!?!**

**Nicolette: That** **’s great news!!! Congratulations, Jumin.**

**Jumin: Yes, I am very pleased to have her returned. I just wish Yoosung had not done so in person.**

**Yoosung: I** **’m not leaving, either. You’re a mess.**

**Jumin: I** **’m fine.**

**Nicolette: Jumin.**

**Jumin: Yes?**

**Nicolette: You** **’re not alone. Accept the help from your friends.**

**Jumin:** **…**

**Yoosung: He just made a weird noise. I don** **’t know what that noise means.**

**Jumin: Yoosung please do not narrate what I** **’m doing.**

**ZEN: For all our sake** **’s.**

She looked up from her screen, glancing at Saeyoung. He was watching the conversation roll past with a blissful expression on his face, but he didn’t look like he was ready to type anything yet. She kissed the bottom of his jaw and he jumped, looking down into her eyes.

“You okay, love?”

He blinked. “Oh, yeah, just…I don’t know how to start.”

“Give me a minute, I’ll make sure they listen to you, and then you can explain.”

“I’m…” he hesitated, his eyes darting to the screen and then back to her. “I’m scared. You are the most kind, understanding person on the planet, but they might not be so forgiving.”

“They will. I’m not the only one that loves you, Saeyoung.”

He smiled, bemused and yet still full of happiness. “I love it when you say my name.”

Her grin turned malicious, and she tipped her head up to kiss his cheek, right next to his ear. “Mmmmmm, Saeyoung.”

She yelped in surprise as he pounced on her, the laptop sliding off his lap in the other direction as he rolled and pinned her beneath him. He kissed her fervently, devouring her shock and replacing it with ardent passion, her blood tingling as it soared through her veins. He brought his hand up and wound it around her neck, threading his fingers into the back of her hair, coaxing her deeper into the kiss. She lost herself to it, floating away in a tide of heat, everything around her ceasing to exist besides herself and the man making her heart sing.

When he finally let her go they were both gasping, and he rested his forehead against hers. “That noise is _unfair._ _”_

She could do nothing to respond but lay there, trying to draw air back into her starving lungs while her pulse thrummed in her head. She realized her phone was buzzing as new messages filled the chat window, and Saeyoung seemed to notice at the same time. He swore softly as he shifted off her, flopping on his back and grabbing his laptop again. She scrambled to find her phone, which had been dropped on the bed and ended up halfway beneath her. She pulled up the chat, her cheeks feeling red hot as she tried to recover.

**ZEN: I WILL COME OVER THERE RIGHT NOW IF YOU DON** **’T ANSWER**

**Nicolette: Sorry!**

**Nicolette: I** **’m here, we’re fine! Just got distracted.**

**Jumin: Yoosung looks like he is going to cry.**

**Yoosung: I AM NOT.**

**Yoosung: It** **’s just last time that happened it was really bad.**

**Nicolette: No, nothing bad happened, I promise.**

**ZEN: Then what did happen?**

**Jaehee: Perhaps they really have made up. ^_^ <3**

**ZEN: NOPE**

**ZEN: CAN** **’T THINK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW**

**Yoosung: So you guys are really together?**

**Nicolette: Okay, first: everybody calm down.**

**Nicolette: Second, Saeyoung is going to explain some things to you guys, and I want you all to listen.**

**Nicolette: And I am asking you to listen to everything before you jump in and make any decisions.**

**Nicolette: I know that some of you are still very angry at him, but I think that you owe it to your friendship with him to hear him out.**

**Nicolette: Can you all do that?**

**Yoosung: Saeyoung? Is that 707?? O.o**

**Nicolette: Yes, that** **’s Seven.**

**Yoosung: then definitely yes!!!!**

**Jaehee: I will be happy to listen to whatever explanation can be offered.**

**Jumin: For you, I will listen, but I make no promises as to my reaction.**

**ZEN: God, even the jerk said yes? Fine, I** **’ll hear him out.**

**Nicolette: Thanks, guys.**

She looked at Saeyoung, his cheeks still flushed, and she scooted next to him, so that their shoulders were pressed together.

“Ready?” she asked. He nodded, looking at the screen and swallowing. She reached up and tilted his head towards her, brushing her thumb against his cheek. “Everything will be fine. I’ll be here, any time you need me.”

“Thank you. Here goes nothing.” He took a deep breath and started typing, and she watched as he recounted many of the things that he had told her earlier. He started with his past, worked his way through meeting V and Rika, and eventually got to the present. It was a shorter, summarized version, that contained more facts rather than emotions, but it was still the same story nonetheless. True to their word, the other members of the RFA listened diligently, with very few interruptions other than to ask for clarification here and there. When he finally finished his explanation of the lie he had told, he started in on his apologies.

**707: I** **’m sorry that I never told any of you this. V had been the biggest role model that I had growing up, and he had taught me that hiding pain, that keeping secrets, was what you did if you cared for someone. I never knew how much it could hurt people until I told that stupid lie.**

**707: Thank you, all of you, for standing up for Nicky and defending her when you thought I had judged her for her past. Thank you for being there for her when she needed it most.**

**707: I** **’m sorry that my lie turned out to be so painful, but I swear I will do everything I can to make it up to you guys, if you’ll let me.**

**Nicolette: For the record, I** **’ve talked things out with him, and I have forgiven him completely. I hope that you will consider doing the same.**

**Yoosung: I knew you loved her!!!!!**

**Jumin: Please stop bouncing on my couch like that.**

**Yoosung: You could have just said so, you didn** **’t have to type it -_-**

**Jaehee: I am relieved to know that things weren** **’t as they seemed. Luciel…no, Saeyoung, I believe that I can forgive you.**

**ZEN: What you did was still wrong.**

**707: I know. I wish that I could take it back, but I can** **’t, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life working to show Nicky and everyone else how sorry I am.**

Saeyoung looked crushed at Zen’s words, and she wished that she knew what to say to make things right again, to make them understand how sorry he was. She could feel it in the way his shoulders sagged that he was losing hope, and she was desperate to stop that from happening.

**ZEN: Nicky?**

**Nicolette: Yes?**

**ZEN: Do you feel safe now? Do you feel happy? Has he apologized for not only his lies, but the way he treated you after he arrived at the apartment?**

**Nicolette: He did. He has apologized to me more than enough, and now that I understand why he behaved that way I can forgive him. His intentions were good, however misguided his actions turned out to be.**

**Nicolette: But I love him, and he does make me feel happier and safer than I ever have before. So I** **’m asking you, all of you, not to hold things against him that he did out of depression and desperation.**

**707: I love you too, Nicky.**

**Yoosung: Eeeeeeeeeeee**

**Jumin: Stop making that noise while you type.**

**ZEN: Alright. It will take me a little more time, but if you make her happy then I guess I can forgive you.**

**ZEN: But if you mess up again I** **’m gonna kick your ass.**

**707: If I mess up again I would let you kick my ass, Zen.**

**707: Thank you, for protecting her when I was too stupid to do it myself.**

**ZEN: Anytime.**

**Jumin: I have some things I would like to say.**

**Yoosung: He looks so serious!**

**Jumin: First, I want to apologize as well.**

**ZEN: !!!!**

**Jumin: I apologize that I reacted poorly when Nicolette arrived at my apartment. I was upset over a great many things that were happening in my life, and I was not handling them well.**

**Jumin: When she arrived, I was upset, and angry. I was not holding myself together, and then Sarah arrived and compounded matters. I became confused, and the only thing that seemed real to me was how I felt about Nicolette.**

**Jumin: I knew that I wanted to protect her, and that I enjoyed spending time with her, and at the time I did not know what that meant.**

**Jumin: I mistook it for something that it was not, and as a result I treated Nicolette very poorly.**

**Jumin: I want to apologize sincerely, for any pain or suffering that I caused during the time you spent with me. I should have been helping you, and instead I was only trying to help myself.**

**Nicolette: Jumin** **…**

**Jumin: I hope that you can forgive me, someday.**

**Nicolette: I already forgive you. I was there, I know what happened, and you *were* still trying to help me.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sorry that I wasn’t able to help you more, and that I was so wrapped up in my own despair that I couldn’t resolve yours.**

**Jumin: It was not your job to do so.**

**Jumin: Thank you, though. And thank you Saeyoung, for talking me out of my shameful behavior.**

**Jumin: And finally, I want to extend an additional apology to Zen.**

**ZEN: ?!?!**

**Jumin: You came to help Nicolette, as you should have, and instead of realizing that you only sought to protect her as much as I did, I treated you with aggression and hostility.**

**Jumin: I** **’m sorry that I hit you.**

**Yoosung: YOU HIT ZEN?**

Saeyoung laughed, looking over at her. “So _that_ _’s_ who he punched. The guards warned me he had hit someone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it wasn’t all that funny at the time.”

“Sorry, I suppose it wouldn’t have been.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close once more.

**ZEN: Well. I don** **’t really know what to say.**

**Yoosung: You forgive him!!!**

**ZEN: I have a black eye! Nicky was terrified!**

**Jumin: I really am sorry. I do not know how else to say it.**

**Nicolette: For what it** **’s worth, I completely forgive Jumin. Both of us made mistakes in that situation, but we will be able to work through it.**

**ZEN: GAH!!!**

**ZEN: Why are you so forgiving? You should be the angriest one, not the one convincing me to let it go.**

**Yoosung: That** **’s because Nicky is the greatest.**

**707: ~true~**

**ZEN: >.>**

**ZEN: Fine, I forgive you, Jumin Han.**

**ZEN: Ugh, that feels gross.**

**Jumin: Agreed.**

**Yoosung: he** **’s smiling tho**

**Jaehee: ^^ Yoosung you might not want to type all that**

**Yoosung: SEND HELP**

**Yoosung: HE** **’S CHASING ME**

**Jumin: Please excuse Yoosung for a moment.**

**Yoosung: NO, HELP**

**Jaehee: -_-**

**707: lololololol**

**ZEN: Hey Jaehee, do you want to tell them what we found?**

**Jaehee: Oh!!! Yes!**

**Yoosung: He** **’s making me sit in the corner.**

**Jumin: When you can control your urge to narrate what I** **’m doing you will be allowed back on the couch with the rest of the civilized individuals.**

**Yoosung: Elizabeth the 3rd is more civilized than I am -_-**

**707: ELLIE IS THE MOST CIVILIZED.**

**Jumin: I just forgave you, don** **’t make me angry again.**

**Nicolette: Jaehee, didn** **’t you have something to say?**

**Yoosung: lolol diversion**

**Nicolette: ^^***

**Jaehee: I did!**

**Jaehee: So, Zen and I have been working on trying to find a solution to the Sarah problem.**

**Jaehee: It took some work, but we were able to dig up some dirt on both Sarah AND Glam, which should help convince Mr. Han senior to stop pushing this marriage.**

**ZEN: You** **’re welcome, by the way, you jerk.**

**Jumin: What did you find?**

**Jaehee: I can brief you later, if you do not wish to share it here.**

**Jumin: No, please share.**

**Jumin: I would like to follow Saeyoung** **’s example. No more secrets. That was V’s way, and he is no longer in the RFA.**

**Jumin: I want this to be a safe place for all of us to come, and know that we can share anything and be supported.**

**Yoosung: Jumin T_T**

**Nicolette: I agree. I think of all of you as my family, and I will always be there for you and support you, no matter what.**

**ZEN: ~Nicky~ that** **’s so sweet.**

**707: I feel the same. I** **’m done ever keeping secrets from you guys.**

**707: You** **’re the only real family I’ve ever had.**

**Yoosung: ^_^**

**Yoosung: I also agree!**

**Jaehee: I am very glad to have met each of you. I consider you my closest friends, and yes I suppose family would not be inaccurate to say.**

**Jumin: Then we are all agreed. So please, Jaehee, what did you discover?**

**Jaehee: Well, Zen happened to get a part in an upcoming movie, and will be co-starring with someone that has worked with Glam.**

**ZEN: The co-star is very nice. And I suppose I should be honest and admit that the only reason that I got the part was because of the black eye.**

**ZEN: They thought it was very convincing method acting, since the main character gets beat up trying to save the woman he loves.**

**Jaehee: SO ROMANTIC**

**Yoosung: -_- black eyes aren** **’t romantic**

**Nicolette: ~ Guess Jaehee must find Zen much more attractive now! ;)**

**ZEN: -_- that** **’s not important right now**

**707: lolol Zen is blushing rn**

**Jumin: That would look terrible under the bruise.**

**ZEN: YOU JERK**

**ZEN: YOU DID IT.**

**Jumin: To be fair, your stupid face bruised my knuckles, so I think we** **’re even.**

**ZEN: WE WILL BE EVEN WHEN I PUNCH THAT SMUG GRIN OFF YOUR FACE**

**Yoosung: How did you know he was grinning?!**

**Jumin: Yoosung, eyes back in the corner.**

**Yoosung: T_T**

**Nicolette: JAEHEE, I BELIEVE YOU HAD SOMETHING YOU WERE TRYING TO SAY?**

**707: lololol**

**Jaehee: Thank you, Nicky. As I was saying** **…**

**Jaehee: Through Zen** **’s co-star we were able to discover that Glam has been having some economic troubles over the past few years. To the point where she had started to file for bankruptcy not that long ago…a process that she dropped after meeting Mr. Han senior.**

**Jumin: So we have proof that she is after his money. That is good, although I** **’m not sure if he will listen to it.**

**ZEN: There** **’s more~**

**Jaehee: So I was researching just how bad things were for Glam, and I cam across some expenses to a plastic surgeon that were astronomical.**

**Yoosung: Don** **’t movie stars do stuff like that all the time??**

**ZEN: The thing is, Glam hasn** **’t had any work done, not for awhile anyways. You can look at her pictures to see nothing has changed, and you don’t get plastic surgery in places people can’t see.**

**707: Maybe she was having a heart installed.**

**Yoosung: lololol Glam Choi, the tin man.**

**Jumin: if she received a heart I do not believe she knows how to use it yet**

**Nicolette: lol sick burn, Jumin.**

**Jumin: lol thank you.**

**707: Jumin Han, comedic genius.**

**Jaehee: Anyways** **…**

**Nicolette: Anyways** **…**

**Jaehee: I pulled up more information on the records, and it looks like the original recipient of the procedures was a girl named Sarah Choi, but the last name changed around the middle of the process to** **“Cho”.**

**Yoosung: Did she get married?**

**Jumin: no.**

**Yoosung: ??**

**Jumin: Cho is that woman** **’s last name, the one who keeps insisting she is my fiance.**

**Nicolette: O.o geez, all she did was drop the** **“i” in her last name? That’s not very sneaky.**

**ZEN: That and some pretty extensive facial reconstruction.**

**707: So who is Sarah Choi, then? Related to Glam?**

**Jaehee: Sisters, in fact.**

**Nicolette: So big sis goes bankrupt, meets rich man, and then puts little sister through plastic surgery so that they can trick Jumin into marrying her?**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t think I understand. Would they get more money that way? I mean, everybody was gonna sign a pre-nup, right?**

**Jumin: Actually my father was pushing for no pre-nup, but if this is true the money would not be the greatest loss.**

**Jaehee: Correct. If they do not sign contracts stating otherwise, then once the marriage is finalized both women would become shareholders in the company.**

**707: Which between the two of them could become a majority share very easily, I take it?**

**Jumin: Yes. It almost certainly would.**

**Nicolette: That** **’s terrible!!!!**

**Yoosung: MARRYING FOR THOSE REASONS IS AWFUL**

**Yoosung: DOESN** **’T ANYONE BELIEVE IN LOVE ANYMORE?**

**Jumin: Please stop breathing so heavily.**

**Yoosung: I** **’M ANGRY ON YOUR BEHALF DON’T TELL ME TO STOP BREATHING**

**Jaehee: -_- that** **’s not what he said**

**707: Yoosung just wants to love you, Jumin.**

**707: LET HIM LOVE YOU.**

**Yoosung: THAT** **’S NOT WHAT I MEANT**

**ZEN: lololol**

**707: Don** **’t give up on love, Yoosung!!!!**

She giggled as Saeyoung grabbed her, pulling her into his lap. He planted a kiss on her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder, pressing their faces together. He raised his arm, phone in hand, and snapped a picture of the two of them, holding her tightly as he turned the screen to view the result. They were both blushing and grinning like idiots, and she marveled at how happy they looked. She had never seen herself look happier in any photograph, ever, and she knew that it was all because of him. He kissed her again as she scooted back off his lap. He tapped the screen on his phone for a few seconds before pulling the laptop back where it was a moment ago. The picture appeared in the chat window, and she giggled again to see it there.

**707: SEE. LOVE IS ALIVE.**

**Yoosung: T_T you two look so happy**

**Jumin: Indeed.**

**Yoosung: in case you can** **’t tell, Jumin is smiling for you.**

**Jumin: Eyes. On. The. Wall.**

**Jaehee: You make a lovely couple.**

**ZEN: ARE YOU IN BED TOGETHER?**

**ZEN: YOU HAD BETTER NOT GET ANY IDEAS**

**707: What kind of ideas? I, an innocent boy, do not know what you could mean.**

**ZEN: YES YOU DO**

**ZEN: YOU** **’RE THINKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW**

**ZEN: STOP IT.**

**Yoosung: -_-**

She blushed at the thought, but she also resented the implication that there would be anything wrong with that even if it had been part of their plans for the evening. She very carefully avoided looking at Saeyoung as she typed out her response, hoping that he wouldn’t object, or that she wouldn’t burst into flames from embarrassment.

**Nicolette: Zen, I** **’m only going to say this once, so listen up.**

**Nicolette: I love you. You** **’re the big brother I never had, and the best friend I’ve always wanted.**

**Nicolette: But you are not the keeper of my vagina, so please stop yelling about my chastity.**

**Jaehee: I just spit out my water.**

**Jumin: Yoosung is blushing.**

**Yoosung: NOW WHO** **’S NARRATING?**

**ZEN: Feminism has killed chivalry. -_-**

**Nicolette: THAT** **’S IT. I’M BUYING THE FEDORA ON AMAZON RIGHT NOW.**

**ZEN: NO. I** **’M SORRY.**

**Nicolette: You better be.**

**Jaehee: I think you would look good in a fedora, Zen.**

**ZEN: thank you Jaehee, but KINDA NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW**

**707: lolololol God bless feminism.**

**Nicolette: Damn straight.**

She finally found the courage to glance back at him, and he winked at her, grinning from ear to ear. She laughed, bumping her shoulder against his, still blushing but no longer caring.

**Jaehee: Here, here!!!**

**Jumin: Zen, you should embrace the time of equality and acceptance. I am disappointed that you are such a prude regarding women** **’s sexual choices.**

**ZEN: SHUT UP, JERK.**

**ZEN: I** **’M A FEMINIST TOO.**

**Jumin: Hm. I see no evidence of such.**

**Yoosung: omg Jumin is giggling. You love pissing off Zen, don** **’t you?**

**Yoosung: OH GOD HE** **’S CHASING ME AGAIN**

**Jumin: Yoosung will be right back.**

**Yoosung: HELP!**

**707: lolol don** **’t hurt him.**

**Nicolette: Zen, maybe you should go try to rescue him, too.**

**ZEN: I don** **’t want another black eye.**

**707: isn** **’t it sexist to only want to rescue women?**

**ZEN: I SWEAR I WILL COME OVER THERE AND KICK YOUR ASS**

**Nicolette: Boys, play nice.**

**707: Yeah Zen, play nice. ~**

**ZEN: You two are the worst. You deserve each other.**

**Nicolette: ^^**

**Nicolette: We love you too, Zen.**

**707: Just not as much as I love her.**

**ZEN: >.>**

**Yoosung: He messed up my hair.**

**707: THE GREATEST TRAGEDY**

**ZEN: WOMEN WEEP AS WE SPEAK**

**Yoosung: T_T**

**Jumin: I have returned.**

**Nicolette: lol welcome back.**

**ZEN: OMG I just realized it** **’s 2am. I am going to be so puffy at the party tomorrow >.>**

**Jumin: Nicolette, will you need transportation? You and Saeyoung, of course?**

**Nicolette: about that** **…**

Saeyoung placed his hand on her wrist, stopping her in the middle of typing her next sentence. He looked concerned, and she frowned in response, but he leaned forward and kissed the expression away, making her sigh.

“Are you sure this is what you want? To go with me? It’s not going to be easy, or safe, and I know you worked so hard on this party. I would understand if you wanted to stay. I know I keep asking you, but…I just want you to be happy.”

“If this is important to you, then I belong at your side. You matter more to me than any danger we might face.” She kissed him again, lingering for just a moment against his lips, to fill herself with hope and love against whatever might come in the days ahead. “I also want to do what I can to help Saeran. I’m in this, one hundred percent, and I have no regrets, okay?”

“I love you.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth, unable to stop her smile. “Love you, too.” It felt like they had said it a dozen times in the past hours, but it still didn’t seem like it was enough. She would keep saying it, over and over again, until her very last breath, because that was how often she wanted him to hear it.

**Nicolette: We can** **’t go to the party.**

**Yoosung: NO!  WHY?**

**Yoosung: I WON** **’T GET TO MEET YOU?**

**707: I can** **’t just walk away from Saeran. I have to find him, and I have to get him away from those dangerous people.**

**Nicolette: And I** **’m going with him.**

**ZEN: Isn** **’t that too dangerous?!**

**Nicolette: My place is with Saeyoung. Always.**

**707: I promise that I will do everything that I can to keep her safe. I will protect her with my life.**

**Jaehee: Please, protect each other.**

**Yoosung: Does this mean we should cancel the party?**

**707: NO!**

**Nicolette: No!**

**Jumin: lol**

**Nicolette: Everything is basically already in place. I just need someone to be there to greet the guests, since I can** **’t attend.**

**Jaehee: Email me the information, I will be happy to take over any administrative duties that are left.**

**Nicolette: Thank you, Jaehee.**

**Jumin: I would like to help, as well.**

**Nicolette: Good, there are a couple of things I want you to take care of, as well. I** **’ll send the information over.**

**Yoosung: I can** **’t believe you won’t be there T_T**

**Nicolette: I** **’m sorry. We have to take care of this first.**

**Nicolette: But I promise when we get back, we** **’ll throw another party. And this time all of us will be able to attend.**

**ZEN: I** **’ll look forward to it. Seven? Or, Saeyoung?**

**707: yo.**

**ZEN: Take care of her, and take care of your brother. Please tell him that he has a whole family waiting for him when he gets back.**

**Yoosung: Yeah! Yeah!**

**707: You guys can forgive him for all that he** **’s done?**

**Jumin: I believe that Nicolette would say that actions done out of desperation can be atoned for, and I am trying to learn from her compassionate examples. If he can come around and be sorry, then we can forgive him.**

**Jumin: He is your brother, and that makes him our brother.**

She glanced at Saeyoung, who had tears building up in his eyes, and she reached over and squeezed his hand.

“They all love you, Saeyoung, and they will love Saeran, too.”

He crumbled, curling into her waiting arms as the sobs came, the sorrow from his past eking out bit by bit to be replaced with the love of his friends, the dedication of the family he had never realized that he had. She twined her fingers through his hair, providing what comfort and love that she could, holding him tightly and letting him shed the pain of a lifetime. After a few minutes he sniffed, pulling himself together. He sat back up, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes, clearing away the tears and leaving blotches of red behind.

“I don’t deserve any of you.”

“And yet you have us.” She kissed him, rubbing her knuckles against the side of his jaw.

He smiled, rubbing his nose against her own. “I’ll never stop being thankful for that.”

They turned back to the chatroom, and he started typing his response.

**707: Thank you, all of you. That means a lot to me.**

**Yoosung: <3**

**ZEN: <3**

**Jaehee: <3**

**Jumin: <3**

**Nicolette: <3<3<3**

**ZEN: Alright you crazy kids, I need to get to bed if I am going to be even remotely presentable tomorrow.**

**ZEN: Will we hear from you again before you leave?**

**707: Ya, we** **’ll log in tomorrow morning, and I’ll be sure to give you guys updates whenever possible.**

**Nicolette: Jaehee, Jumin, I** **’ll send everything over after I leave here. We can go over any questions in the morning.**

**Jaehee: Sounds good. Have a good night everyone!**

**_Jaehee has left the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: I hope that everyone sleeps well. Nicolette, Saeyoung, please take care of each other.**

**_Jumin has left the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: I guess I** **’m sleeping on Jumin’s couch tonight, he just threw a pillow and blanket at my head. O.o**

**ZEN: Take care of him, okay Yoosung? That jerk doesn** **’t know how to take care of himself.**

**Yoosung: I will! ^_^**

**Yoosung: Goodnight everybody! See you at the party tomorrow, Zen!**

**_Yoosung has left the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Hey, you guys?**

**Nicolette: ?**

**707: yes?**

**ZEN: I** **’m really happy that everything worked out between you.**

**707: ^_^**

**Nicolette: btw, Zen, you know what this means, right?**

**ZEN: ??**

**Nicolette: You need to pay up on your end of the bargain.**

**ZEN: What?! That so doesn** **’t count!!!**

**Nicolette: It does. Tomorrow at the party, I** **’d better hear about it, or I’ll come find you and glue a fedora to your shiny hair.**

**ZEN:** **…**

**ZEN: Fine, but you** **’re terrible and I hate you.**

**Nicolette: Love you too, big brother.**

**ZEN: <3**

**ZEN: Goodnight, guys.**

**_ZEN has left the chatroom._ **

**707: It** **’s just us.**

She laughed, glancing at him. He was staring at his computer screen, and the grin plastered on his face was absolutely priceless.

**Nicolette: lol you could just talk to me, you know.**

**707: I know, but I want to say this here, for everyone to see.**

**707: You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the best thing that has ever happened to the RFA.**

**707: You brought us all together, closer than we have ever been before, and it was because of you that we could become this little family.**

**707: So even though things aren** **’t solved yet, I want to thank you. On behalf of myself, and on behalf of the entire RFA.**

**707: I love you, Nicky. So much.**

**707: And now I** **’m going to log out and tell you that in person, so get ready!!**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

She closed her phone, looking up at him, but before she could say anything he hopped off the bed, taking off into the living room.

“Wait, where are you -”

“Be right back!” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway. She waited, sending the party information to Jaehee and Jumin quickly before she forgot, and half a minute later he walked back into the bedroom, his hands behind his back. He walked over to the bed and stood in front of her, smiling shyly. “Say something. It can be anything.”

“I love you.”

A blush crested his cheeks, and she heard the whir of small fans coming to life behind him. He brought his hands forward, and between his palms rested a small metal cat, eyes glowing blue as the little pieces moved.

“Meow! I have detected the voice of my master, meow! Hello, Nicky!” the ears on the robot tilted as its head tipped to the side.

Nicky clamped her hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “You fixed her? Ellie 2.0?” her shock was muffled between her fingers, but the words came through all the same.

“Yes.” His voice was a low murmur, and he set the robot on the bed so that he could take her hands in his own. “I was always building her for you, even when I thought I was going to disappear forever. I wanted to leave something behind that you might be able to remember me by…I’m sorry that I threw it away when you figured it out.”

“Meow! I detect depression, meow! Initiating cheer-up programming!” the robot rolled over on the bed, the little feet wiggling in the air just like a real cat’s would if it were begging for belly rubs.

She sat up on the bed, carefully maneuvering around the robot, and threw her arms around him, hugging him as tight as she could without damaging the stitches along his stomach. “It’s wonderful, thank you. Thank you for making it in the first place, and thank you for coming back to fix it. I love it. I love you.”

He laughed, running his fingers through her hair. “I’m glad.” He sounded like he had been about to say more, but a massive yawn worked its way out of his throat, and she tilted her head to smirk at him.

“Tired?”

“Unbelievably so.” He nodded, another yawn escaping him.

She released him and crawled over to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers and sliding underneath. She held them aside and patted the space next to her, waiting for him to join her. He paused a moment, just standing there and looking at her, his eyes full of adoration that he didn’t need to give voice in order for her to feel. Finally he sighed, reaching over and turning out the light before he climbed onto the bed and curled under the covers next to her, wrapping his arms around her as they both settled against the pillows.

He smelled like rain in fields of flowers, kissed by the cold mountain air. He felt like the warmth of a gentle autumn sun, brushing farewells against the golden leaves. His breath sounded like music as it eased against her cheek, sweet and hopeful against the darkness of the room. Wherever she was, wherever they went, she knew that with his arms around her she would always be home. Her heart had found where it belonged, and never again could the storm inside her threaten to claim her. Never again could the shadows come close to taking her, because she had found her other half, and she had found a family along with him.

She drifted off to sleep, and her dreams were of picnics and parties, and a million ways that they would learn to love each other, for all the rest of time. 


	40. He Was Malice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I remind you that there is still plot that has yet to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is tiny, which I figured was okay since the last three were HUGE. :)
> 
> Enjoy <3

He was thrown out of an uneasy sleep by the car door slamming a few feet away from him, and the muffled sound of footsteps on the gravel as someone walked around the back of the car. He blinked, bleary, his senses chaotic as he tried to apply logic to where he was and what he was doing there. Vague truths fluttered inside his head, the wings of a butterfly caught in winter’s chill. He had been running? No, he had been falling. Iron. He remembered iron, brimstone burning against the side of his face. Had he burned the world? Had he finished at last?

Saeran looked down and saw the ties on his hands, the blood still clinging to his skin, and he smiled. It was not a smile of mirth, or joy, or relief. It was an expression that spread across his face while insurmountable panic filled his chest, the look in his brother’s eyes rushing back to him all at once to make him relive the memory anew. As the muscles of his face stretched, so too did the smear of caked gore on his cheeks, and he felt it crack and split. Would inky darkness get through the cracks? Would he slip through and fall away, giggling into the arms of madness? Gone. He could be gone, finally, and his spirit could find the sky.

The door to his right was yanked open and the woman grabbed his arm, jerking him upward. It hurt, but only in a distant way. Everything he was experiencing existed very far away. He was somewhere else, surely. He was with the Savior, safe in her arms. He could bathe in her light and wait for paradise, finally come to claim him. He remembered the woman, now, and her sharp words and her angled gun. Finger on the trigger, threat nestled in her palm. Had she pulled it? Had she buried an inch of metal in his brain? Perhaps that’s why the world felt so funny. His head tilted to the side, and he felt like his brain sloshed against his skull. Everything was slippery today.

“Stop going limp like a dead fish. Walk, will you?” the woman pulled him upward as his feet tripped over one another. They were out of order, and he couldn’t remember how to fix it. He felt dizzy. He missed his medicine, sweet blood of hope that would coil in the back of his throat and make everything taste like ink. Pretty ink, lovely ink, drizzled over the world to make it magenta and malevolent.

It was night. Or it was day without the sun. It was a time unknown, a time unneeded. He did not belong in this time. It was the wrong one.

“I should go.” He tried to pull away, but she shook his arm savagely, wrenching his shoulder in painful directions. He gasped, his knees buckling, but she wouldn’t let him fall. He just wanted to fall, to lay down on the ground where the cold dirt could grind away the blood. His brother’s blood.

“Shut up and keep walking. You don’t get to go unless the boss says you do.” She was growling the words, a creature of untethered fury. Her pain was real. Eating her from the inside out, part of the disease thriving in the hearts of man.

“Paradise could free you. You should come with me.” He was being gracious, helpful even to a worm like her. It would have been what the Savior would have wanted.

She pulled down on his arm again, hard, and he yelped. “Stop talking, 707.”

“I’m not him.”

“Yeah, and I’m the queen of England.”

She dragged him onward in silence, towards a building with no windows and only one door, a great grey rectangle seated beneath the light of the moon. Drab. Unadorned. He missed the green tiles of his home. The Savior loved green. It was the color of their medicine. It was the color of her eyes.

_Green flecks like summer sunlight, swimming in amber. Fingers on his around the button that could end it all. Her hair was red, like fire that didn_ _’t burn. Hope. She smelled like hope._

They walked through the small door, into a dark hallway. There was no light to guide them, but that didn’t stop the woman as she lurched forward, taking him with her. He stumbled again, his muscles heavy and shaking. The air here weighed too much, too thick to pass through his lungs. He wanted to go. He wanted the pain in the side of his head to stop. She had hit him…he thought he remembered that. Would there be a bruise? Would he be able to see it beneath all the blood? Pretty purple stain seeping beneath the red. Blue on purple on red on white. He was a rainbow.

There was a door at the end of the hallway, which he only discovered when the woman kicked it open and tossed him inside. He leaned, stumbled, and fell onto his face, cold concrete smashing into his nose. He sobbed, or moaned, he couldn’t tell which, the pain in his head making his vision explode with bursts of blue and green and dripping red. Something was wet by his mouth, something thick and sticky. His brother must be bleeding again. The woman grabbed him and lifted him upward as the sun emerged in the middle of the room.

He blinked. It was not the sun. It was a lamp, dingy and hiding beneath a filthy shade. The light cast shadows on the people and things in the room. Two men, massive and malignant, stood unmoving in the corners. A large, fat woman with rolls of skin that numbered the same amount as the curls in her blonde hair sat behind a particle board desk. She leaned over the surface, lacing her thick fingers together beneath her chin as she looked at him. She looked at the woman that had brought him here, then she looked back at him. Her lips, painted a pretty shade of pink, dipped downward in a sloppy frown.

“Is this a joke?”

The woman blinked in surprise, standing up straighter. “Um…no?”

“Are you trying to protect him, then?” the woman’s eyes flashed dangerously, little blue windows of warning. “Or are you really stupid enough that you brought in the wrong person by mistake?”

His captor looked at him, then back at the woman in charge. “What are you talking about? It’s just a disguise.”

“Right, and I suppose part of his disguise was to lose twenty pounds in the span of a day, as well as all the muscle tone that he had earned from training?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, thick and oozing. Like the blood flowing from his nose. It smelled like iron again, and he wished it wouldn’t.

The woman next to him inhaled sharply, staring at him with wide eyes. He smiled, sweet and simple. “Told you.”

“So,” the woman at the desk was addressing him now, one eyebrow twitched upward, “you aren’t Agent 707, but you bear some resemblance. Who are you?”

His pulse raced. His veins hummed. He sniffed, sucking his blood down the back of his throat as he tried to breathe. Who was he? Who had he been? He could remember only one purpose, only one true meaning to his existence the past few years. His work had been towards one goal, and that goal was everything that he was. He was the fire that would burn through the world to bring paradise. He was malice. He was vengeance.

“I’m someone who wants to see him suffer.”

The woman seemed to approve, and she leaned back in her chair so that the wood creaked and screamed beneath her shifting girth. “And who are you to him?”

He was many things. Things that were lies, things that were true. Things that were made of nightmares and still woke him screaming in the dead of night, things that the Savior wiped away with her pretty green hope. He grinned, his mouth stretching too wide, the cracks in his teeth filling with the blood leaking across his lips. He was malice. He was vengeance. He had a plan.

“Bait.”


	41. I'm Not a Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zen is definitely getting that fedora at some point, and I wonder if anybody remembered that email that got sent a few chapters back. :3

He woke up to the even rhythm of her breathing ghosting against his chest, and for a moment he thought he must still be dreaming. She was wrapped around him beneath the covers, warm and soft, solid and real. Just the idea of her existing seemed like it was too much to hope for, too fervent of a dream to ever be true, and yet she was not only in the same world as him, at the same time, but somehow, against all odds, she was _his._

It was still early, just before the crest of dawn, so he took a selfish moment to enjoy the way it felt to wake up with the woman he loved. He held her closer, breathing her in. She had one arm thrown across his chest, one leg twined around his own. Her lips were parted as she slept, her lashes dusting the tops of her cheeks. Her hair was tussled, sticking out in odd directions from being pressed beneath her head all night, and she looked utterly charming.

He was exhausted, and a large part of his brain was demanding that he bury himself back under the covers and return to sleep, return to the paradise of dreaming in her arms. Now that he was awake he knew what had to be done today, the tasks that they had to begin, and he knew that before long he would need to get up and get started. He couldn’t bear to wake her yet, and so he reached over and grabbed his phone from the night stand, opening it with one hand, the other pressed into the small of her back. There was a little red circle above the letter symbol for his email, but he didn’t care enough to check it. He could look it over later, since it was probably spam anyways. He flipped to the RFA app.

****

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jaehee: Good morning, Saeyoung.**

**707: Howdy, Jaehee! ^^**

**Jumin: Is Nicolette coming?**

**707: She** **’s still asleep, I don’t want to wake her just yet.**

**Yoosung: Awwwwww**

**707: lol hey Yoosung**

**ZEN: You** **’re in the same bed, aren’t you? T_T**

**707: Yep.**

**ZEN: Does it always feel like this when a little sister gets in a relationship? T_T Someone end my suffering.**

**Jumin: Just stop thinking about it. I have never had a sister, but I** **’m certain you aren’t supposed to think about her like that.**

**ZEN: THAT** **’S NOT WHAT I WAS DOING.**

**Yoosung: Zen, are you jealous of Saeyoung?!?!**

**Jaehee: -_-**

**ZEN: NO.**

**707: Sorry, Zen, I guess I got here first. ~**

**Yoosung: The rest of us never had a chance~**

**Jaehee: This is getting awkward.**

**ZEN: *sigh* it isn** **’t like that. Whatever. She’ll buy me a fedora if I say anything else.**

**707: ^^**

**Jumin: When do you plan on leaving?**

**707: I** **’ll wake her up in a little bit, then we’ll go over anything she needs to for the party and head out.**

**707: So, soon, I guess.**

**707: She** **’s very cute when she sleeps :3**

**707: I wish I didn** **’t have to wake her up.**

**ZEN: She definitely deserves some extra rest.**

**Jaehee: No kidding. Did you know she already had everything finished for the party?**

**Jaehee: The only thing we have to do is show up and direct everything.**

**Yoosung: Wow, with everything else that was going on?**

**Jaehee: Yes! She is very impressive!**

**Jumin: The guest list is quite extensive, as well, considering her short preparation time.**

**Yoosung: Hooray!**

**Yoosung: Still sad not everyone will be there, though.**

**707: I know, we** **’re sad too. But we’ll be thinking of you guys, so it will be like we’re there in spirit.**

**ZEN: In person would be better. It** **’s not fair you and Jumin have met Nicky in person when the rest of us can’t.**

**707: ^^**

**707: she** **’s very cute in person.**

**ZEN: -_-**

**Yoosung: lolololol**

**Jumin: I can attest to this, if Saeyoung has no objections.**

**707: Can** **’t fight the truth ^^**

**ZEN: Why do I even talk to you guys?**

**Jaehee: Because we** **’re all in this together.**

**Yoosung: That** **’s the spirit, Jaehee!!!**

**ZEN: Betrayed on all sides T_T**

**Jaehee: Sorry;;**

**ZEN: Forgiven <3**

Nicky groaned against his chest, her nose wrinkling as she opened one eye to peer up at him.

He used a finger to brush her frizzy hair away from her face, reveling in the sleepy smile she shined on him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay.” She lifted her head, looking at the dark room around them, the grey tint of dawn barely beginning to alter the light. “Morning?”

He chuckled. “Yes. More or less.”

“Mmmm.” She hummed her assent, and it thrummed against his ribs as she laid her head back down. It was too much, that little sound. Every time she made it his mind went blank and filled with a million visions of all the ways he could get her to do it again. He tossed his phone to the side and rolled, taking her with him so that they both tangled in the covers. She squealed in surprise, then giggled as he rained kisses from her ear down along her neckline, nibbling at the base of her collarbone.

He inhaled, trying to calm himself. “You really can’t make that sound anymore, babe.” He shifted so that his head was hovering over hers, level with her gaze.

“Which sound?” her eyes were wide by this time, glinting with mischief and wicked intent, and she took his breath away as he looked down at her. He could feel her heartbeat against his own, her hips pressed against his.

He leaned down and claimed her lips, savoring the slow way they melted into his own. He murmured his next words against them, never quite ending the contact between them. “You know which sound.”

She took in a deep breath, and he crushed her to him before she could do what he _knew_ was coming next, inhaling her shaking sigh with another kiss as their hearts thundered together. He slid one hand around the back of her neck, and the other made its way down to her hip, holding her closer, exploring her, drinking her like a man vanquished to the desert for too long. She threw her arms around his back, sighing again as her fingers clenched in his shirt. He was lost. They would go nowhere today; they would not leave this bed. They would sink into the abyss together and never come up for air again.

Her phone rang and vibrated, rattling the table on her side of the bed. He released her lips, burying his face in the side of her neck as she groaned in genuine disappointment.

“Can I ignore it?” her words were breathless, and he couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction, lightly kissing the span of skin where her shoulder met her throat.

“No. You should answer it.”

She huffed irritably, reaching around him to grab the offending device. “Dammit Zen.” She cursed before she answered, and he chuckled as her finger slammed on the green button to pick up the call. “Yes, oh shiny one?”

Zen’s voice drifted through the phone, loud enough for Saeyoung to hear him clearly. “Good morning. Saeyoung disappeared from the chatroom, so I thought you might be awake. I’m not _interrupting_ anything, am I?

“I hate you. I hope you know that.” Her words carried no malice, although she did sound irritated.

“Oh-ho! Good morning to you, too, my love. You sound like you didn’t get very good sleep. That’s bad for your health, you know.” Zen’s chuckle was very self-satisfied, and Saeyoung couldn’t help but kiss her neck further in retaliation. A noise escaped her lips that she tried to suppress in the middle, and it ended up sounding like something between a moan and a choking ferret.

She cleared her throat. “I was sleeping just fine until a few minutes ago, thank you very much.”

“What was that sound? What is Saeyoung doing?” Zen’s alarm was like sweet music to his ears, and he trailed his kisses lower, pulling aside the collar of her shirt to reveal more of her skin.

“Nothing!” she squeaked around the word as her skin flushed, the heat radiating along his lips. “He’s not here. He’s making breakfast. He’s on the moon.”

“PUT HIM ON THE PHONE.” She held the receiver away from her ear at their friend’s shout, wincing.

Saeyoung laughed, taking the phone from her nerveless fingers. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her as he spoke to Zen. “Good morning. Again.”

“Don’t give me that cheeky attitude, you…you wolf!” he was as indignant as Saeyoung had ever seen him.

He laughed again, placing a tender kiss on Nicky’s cheek. “You know, we were about to have breakfast. Care to join us?” She giggled below him, then clamped her hand over her mouth to dampen the sound.

“Gross. I mean, you had better be talking about actual breakfast, buddy.”

Nicky narrowed her eyes and moved her hand, speaking loud enough that Zen would be able to hear her on the other end. “That’s it, the fedora is happening!”

Zen let out a shout of frustration. “Fine, fine, I’ll shut up. But you two need to stop…stop _canoodling_ and get into the chatroom. There’s RFA stuff to attend to.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll be right there.” Saeyoung hung up on her behalf, placing the phone back in her hand. He placed his palm against her cheek, reveling in the beauty shining from her eyes, taking one last moment to remind himself that there would be a thousand mornings like this in the years ahead where they _wouldn_ _’t_ be interrupted. He would fight for those, and he would fight for her, and he would fight for the future that included everything that he wanted.

She sighed. “Duty calls, I suppose.”

“I know.” He kissed her, lightly this time, before he shifted off her, allowing her to sit up and try to set the blankets around them to rights. When she had removed enough of the offending linens to be able to move she sidled up next to him, tucking herself beneath his arm, warming him against the chilly morning air. He grabbed his phone and looked back at the chatroom, laughing at the replies already there.

**Yoosung: I TOLD HIM NOT TO I SWEAR**

**Jaehee: -_-**

**Jumin: Perhaps she will get him a sparkling fedora. That would suit him. Orange and sparkly.**

**Jaehee: I was with you until you said orange** **…**

**Yoosung: lol that might be the only color that wouldn't look good on Zen.**

**707: I** **’ll pass the suggestion along.**

**Yoosung: lololol did he really call?**

**ZEN: Damn right I did.**

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**Nicolette: Morning everyone!**

**Nicolette: Oh, orange! Not a bad suggestion, thanks Jumin!**

**Jumin: I live to assist.**

**Jaehee: I** **’m pretty sure you don’t.**

**Jumin: Consider it my humanitarian contribution for the day.**

**Yoosung: >.> **

**Yoosung: wouldn** **’t that be the party?**

**Jumin: True. I am especially charitable this morning.**

**Jumin: Now be quiet and eat your breakfast.**

**ZEN: lol**

**707: Listen to your father, Yoosung.**

**Yoosung: OMG NO**

**Yoosung: JUMIN IS NOT MY DAD**

**Nicolette: Papa Han**

**Jumin: No.**

**ZEN: LOL**

**Jumin: quit laughing fedora boy**

**ZEN: Whatever Papa Han**

**Yoosung: -_- he** **’s not my dad**

**707: lololololol**

**Jaehee: The idea of Jumin adopting Yoosung is disturbing.**

**Yoosung: THANK YOU JAEHEE.**

**Jumin: Are you implying I would not be a good father?**

**707: Jumin would love his new son, freshly hatched from his egg**

**Nicolette: sweet duckling, new to this world**

**Yoosung: I** **’M 21. I’M AN ADULT. YOU CAN’T ADOPT ME.**

**Jumin: I would be an excellent father.**

**ZEN: Who are you even trying to convince?**

**Jaehee: *sigh***

**Jaehee: I was not implying you wouldn** **’t be a good father.**

**Jumin: Zen, I would be an excellent father.**

**ZEN: Right. For robots.**

**Jumin: At least any child of mine would know they were valued for more than their looks.**

**ZEN: Are you implying that *I* would be a bad father?**

**ZEN: I WOULD BE TWICE THE FATHER YOU WOULD**

**707: You can adopt Yoosung together**

**Nicolette: Twice the fathers!**

**Jumin:** **…**

**Yoosung: I think he just choked on his coffee.**

**Jumin: Stop narrating.**

**ZEN: NO ONE IS ADOPTING YOOSUNG.**

**Yoosung: THANK YOU.**

Nicky looked at him, winking and grinning like a fiend, and then she started typing furiously. He picked up the joke immediately, and together they ran with it.

**Nicolette: T_T poor sweet orphan**

**707: left in the cold**

**Nicolette: nothing but the shells of his egg to hold on to**

**707: two dads, torn apart by their differences**

**Nicolette: won** **’t anyone think of the children?!**

**ZEN: STOP IT.**

**Yoosung: I** **’M NOT A DUCK.**

**Jumin: We can** **’t be torn apart, we were never together.**

**Jaehee: -_-;;;;;**

Nicky dissolved into giggles next to him, her mirth shaking his side. He couldn’t help but laugh along with her, and while the horizon turned pink as the fringes of sunlight broke free from the night it felt as though her joy was birthing the day.

**Jaehee: Can we please discuss official business now?**

**Nicolette: Sorry Jaehee.**

**Jaehee: It** **’s no trouble! ^^**

**Jaehee: But I will have to head to the venue soon, so I don** **’t want to forget anything.**

**Nicolette: So, before we go over party business, I wanted to bring something up to everyone.**

**Nicolette: Since V is no longer part of the RFA, there is no longer a leader to defer to for final decisions.**

**Nicolette: While I appreciate the idea of all of us working together, and think we should still do this** **…**

**Nicolette: I also think that having someone that can make final decisions and guide the organization as a whole would be a good idea.**

**Nicolette: And I would like to nominate Jumin for this position.**

**Jumin: Me?**

“Jumin?” he blinked at her, and he couldn’t quite suppress the pang of jealousy and worry that shot through his heart.

“Who else? He deserves the position.”

“You were…very convincing in your pitch.” He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. She was tucked underneath his arm; it was ludicrous that he was having doubts about the man that she preferred. He felt himself blushing, and so he turned away, avoiding her searching gaze.

“Saeyoung.” She called him back to her with the use of his name, warm as it tumbled from her tongue. “The only reason I was ever anywhere near his arms was because you tore my heart into pieces pushing me out of yours. But there is no one else in this world for me but you, and even if you push me away again, my heart will always remain with you.”

His own heart felt as though it had wings, soaring through the open air to greet the day with jubilation. He kissed her, quickly, sweetly, before returning to the conversation in the chatroom.

**707: I second this nomination.**

**Jumin:** **…**

**Jaehee: I, too, feel that he is the best choice.**

**Yoosung: YES. I VOTE YES.**

**Jumin: I am not sure I am fit for this role.**

**Jumin: After everything I** **’ve done…**

**ZEN: Alright, jerk, listen up. You did stupid shit.**

**ZEN: But you have been in the RFA the longest, and you prioritized our safety and importance, even when it would have been easier to brush it off and believe in V despite the evidence.**

**ZEN: He was your best friend, but you were able to see through that kind of pain and stick by the people that needed you the most.**

**ZEN: You were only trying to protect Nicky, and even though you really suck at it, I can still get where you were coming from.**

**ZEN: And *I* sure as hell don** **’t want the job, so just shut up and take it.**

**Nicolette: Jumin, you are the person I trust most to lead the RFA going forward. You care so much about it, even if you don** **’t always say so, and I know that you will always do your best to make sure it remains the same organization it has always been.**

There was a long pause where nobody said anything, each of them waiting for Jumin’s response.

**Yoosung: Give him a bit, I think he needs a minute.**

**Jumin: I am humbled and honored.**

**Jumin: But I will not make the RFA the same as it always was** **…because it hasn’t always been what it should be.**

**Jumin: Nicolette, you wouldn** **’t know this because you’re so new to us, but the RFA was not always so close.**

**Jumin: We revolved around Rika, and that was how we all came together, but none of us ever reached out to the other.**

**Jumin: When Rika died, we only remained because none of us knew what else to do.**

**Jumin: But when Nicolette arrived, things changed. I began to see what it was the RFA could be, beyond what even Rika had imagined.**

**Jumin: I want to make sure the RFA carries on that spirit, the spirit of support and family that has blossomed since our new party planner has joined.**

**Jumin: So, if you still feel that I am the correct choice, that is what I will strive to uphold.**

**707: Beautifully said, Jumin.**

**ZEN: I full support this.**

**Jaehee: I concur.**

**Yoosung: Yes. Nicky changed us for the better, and we should move forward with that.**

**Jaehee: Nicky, can you confirm the final vote?**

She sniffed beside him, and he looked down to see tears welling in her eyes.

“You okay?”

She nodded, curving closer to him as he hugged her tighter. “I just…I’m so lucky to have found you all.”

“It’s the other way around. We’re lucky to have found you.”

He kissed the top of her head and then sent his next message to the chatroom.

**707: lol give her a moment, she is a bit emotional**

**Jumin: I apologize if I have offended her.**

**707: No, no. She** **’s currently crying about how lucky she feels to know us.**

**Yoosung: T_T NICKY WE LOVE YOU.**

**Nicolette: I love you guys, too. And I support Jumin** **’s plan.**

**Yoosung: Hooray! We have a leader again!!**

**ZEN: I can** **’t believe I just campaigned for him >.>**

**Jaehee: Nicky, I** **’ve already spoken with the venue and the catering. Everything seems in order. Were there any other special arrangements we needed to know about?**

**Nicolette: You spoke with the guest I mentioned in the email?**

**Jaehee: Yes! She** **’s quite prepared and amenable to the suggestion.**

**Nicolette: Good! Jumin, you won** **’t forget what I asked you last night?**

**Jumin: Consider it done.**

**Nicolette: ^^**

**Nicolette: Zen?**

**ZEN: I KNOW I KNOW, DON** **’T HARASS ME.**

**Nicolette: <3**

“What’s with all the cryptic messages, huh?”

She winked at him, shrugging. “You’ll see.”

“Oh, will I? I thought the RFA was done with secrets.”

“Surprises don’t count.” She reached over and patted the side of his cheek, grinning ear to ear. When she turned back to her phone, he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes once more, her expression fixed and strained. She swallowed as she started typing.

**Nicolette: Well** **…it sounds like everything is in order, then. I guess…there’s nothing left for me to do.**

**Jaehee: You** **’ve already done so much.**

**Jumin: We will ensure your hard work does not go to waste.**

He brushed his fingers across her shoulder, and she looked up at him. “You ready to get going, then?”

“Yes. We should.” Her smile trembled, weak and frail, and he wished that he didn’t have to ask this of her. He wished that they could be a normal couple, and that their biggest worry of the day would be dressing for the party. He wished that he had more to offer her than uncertainties and his heart. He turned back to his phone, and he found it just as difficult to find the right words to tell their friends. Who knew how often they would be able to check in, or what would lay in store for them over the course of their journey. This could be the last time they all got to talk to one another, happy and hopeful. Their family had just been started, and already he would need to tear it apart.

“Stop.” He jumped, startled by the force of the command that she issued him. “Stop thinking it’s goodbye. It isn’t. We’ll be back, and we’ll bring Saeran with us.”

She was so sure about it, so positive, that he could believe her. He had promised to fight for that, after all. He smiled, kissing her quickly. “You’re right. You’re always so, so right.”

**707: We have to get going. I** **’ll update as often as possible.**

**707: We love you guys, have extra fun at the party for us.**

**Yoosung: We will!! Please be safe and come back soon!!**

**Jumin: Let me know immediately if you need anything. Anything at all.**

**Jaehee: I** **’ll be praying for you both.**

**ZEN: Come back in one piece, or else! And Saeran too!!**

**Nicolette: Talk to you soon!!**

**_Nicolette has left the chatroom._ **

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

He sat up, extending his arms into the air to stretch out his still sleepy muscles, the joints in his back popping as they strained to match his reach. Nicky scooted to the edge of the bed, setting her feet on the carpet and staring at them. Her eyes were full of sadness, and he longed to drive the shadows away. Would she regret this? Would she regret choosing him?

“Hey, are you really okay?”

“I am.” She didn’t flash a smile, she didn’t try to hide her sorrow, and for that he was grateful. “I’m sad that we have to leave them behind, but I also know that it won’t be for long. I’m ready to move forward.”

“Will you tell me if it’s too much?” he placed his hand on her back, rubbing up and down to ease the tension in her spine.

When she turned this time, her smile was radiant again, full of the fires of hope. “Of course. But I’m strong, so don’t worry about me too much.”

“You’re the strongest person I know, but I’m still going to worry.” He felt better when she laughed, standing from the bed and walking over to the small dresser that she had pulled her clothes out of the night before.

“Alright, I suppose that’s fair since I’ll probably worry about you no matter what, too. I’m going to start packing things up and get some breakfast ready.”

“Sounds good. I’ll help in just a minute.” He watched her pad out of the room with an armful of clothes before he lifted his phone, checking that everything was in order in his programs before they headed out. He should probably do a sweep on his laptop, as well, to ensure there weren’t any kinks that could affect their plans. They should be able to find someplace quiet and secluded to hide while he did more research into this cult. They could spend a few days working on intel before they had to try another break in, which would be good because it would give him time to get her familiar with training to help them both survive. He frowned. Maybe they should spend a couple weeks on that, and then make their move. He didn’t want to rush things. It was true, he wanted his brother back, but not at the expense of Nicky’s life. He wasn’t willing to make that kind of trade any longer.

Satisfied that everything was ready on his phone, he finally flipped to his inbox to check that lone email that had come in sometime yesterday. His blood ran cold when he saw the title, everything in the world grinding to a halt as he stared at the letters. “Your Other Half”. It was from an account that had been deleted, so he wouldn’t be able to determine the sender unless he dug through and did a trace, which would take additional time. He swallowed, and opened the message.

****

**_Saeyoung,_ **

**_There was a woman that took Saeran just before you arrived. She called him_ ** **_“Agent 707” and drove off in a car with the letters M E O W on it. That is all I know._ **

**_I_ ** **_’m so sorry for everything._ **

**_-V_ **

****

He wished that it had been printed on paper so that he could crumple it up and fling it at the wall.

Of course. That’s why he hadn’t been found yet. That’s why the agency had been so quiet. They thought they already had him. If V was telling the truth, Vanderwood was likely the woman that had grabbed Saeran, and she had taken off in one of _his_ cars afterward. Saeran was not safe with his cult, as he had been thinking this whole time. He was currently in the hands of the group that wanted Saeyoung, Agent 707, dead. Who knew how much harm he could have come into while Saeyoung had rolled around in bed like a lovesick idiot. If he had just listened to V, would the bastard have told him all this yesterday? Had he wasted precious hours because he was too angry to see reason?

“Shit.” He stood, rushing out into the living room, his hands shaking. “Hey, babe, we might have a slight change of plans.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just got an email. From V. It looks like Vanderwood grabbed my brother, thinking he was me, and now he’s in the agency’s custody.”

Her eyes widened, the panic filling them the same kind that thrummed inside his chest. “Oh, god! Can we get to him?”

“Yes. Maybe. We need to hit the road, fast, but I also need to get to work preparing some things and get a message to the agency. I…I might be able to pull this off, but I can’t do it without you. I need you, and I’ll need your help. Will you help? Can you drive?”

“Of course.” She took a step towards him, her love shining through the fear. “Anything.” She gave him a kiss as on the cheek as she rushed past him, grabbing the rest of the things that she would need and hurrying to pack them in her bag. He followed suit and did the same, their blissful morning over as a sense of tense urgency invaded the day. Another day, another disaster. Such was the life of Saeyoung Choi.

This time, he wouldn’t let it get him down. As they rushed into the car and hit the road, he didn’t dissolve into despair. He _would_ fight. He had so many reasons to keep doing so. This wasn’t what they had planned, but that didn’t mean that it was over. Nicky had told him that she believed everything happened for a reason, and maybe it was time that he started believing that, too. After all, through all the bad things that had happened, it had led him down the path to her, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret anything now that he knew that was true. She was worth all his pain, all his suffering. She was his light at the end of the tunnel, the stars that brightened the night. She was his, and she was with him, and together they would save Saeran.

_Hang on little brother, I_ _’m coming._


	42. Settle Down, Ducky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we attend the party: part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more fluff to get you through the winter. ;)

He shook what must have been the thirtieth hand in the last hour, flashing a smile that put a blush across the old man’s face. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he kept his behavior in check. It wouldn’t do to insult the guests Nicky had worked so hard gathering. The man mumbled some sort of gratitude and shuffled off to join the rest of the party, and Zen let his shoulders sag.

“Please tell me that was all of them.” He sighed, leaning against the wall as Jaehee smirked without looking directly at him, her pen making quick marks across a clipboard in her hands.

“That was, in fact, all of them. Everyone is here, including Mr. Han senior.” The tension in her voice was apparent, and he wished that he knew what to say to make it better.

“Try to relax.” He brushed his fingers over her shoulder. For support. “Jumin will handle things with Glam and her creepy sister, and then we can put the whole thing behind us. You did good, digging up all that information.”

Pink tinted the tops of her cheeks, and she looked down at her shoes as she blushed. She looked charming as she did so, and far less stressed than she normally would have. She wasn’t dressed in the suits that normally showed up in her profile pictures. Today she was in a stylish black dress, with a crisp white collar and buttons shaped like lilies. From a distance, it might have looked too simple, but up close there was a sheen to the fabric that made her look like fluid elegance whenever she moved, her grace accentuated by the cut of the cloth as it hugged her hips and thighs. He looked at her, and this once he really let himself look, and she reminded him so much of the child that he had once been. Beautiful, but unable to see it.

“Zen?” she was staring at him, her brow furrowed in concern, and he realized he had been gaping at her for too long. He looked away, glaring wide eyed at the ground and trying to will the heat to drain from his cheeks.

“Sorry, I’m just tired. Those two idiots kept us up too late.”

She smiled, and he watched the way the edges of her eyes crinkled when she did. “True. I hope they’re okay.”

“They will be. Nobody goes through all that to get a bad ending, you know?”

“You’re very optimistic. As much as we might wish, life is not a movie.” She shook her head. “But I suppose worrying won’t help. I’m very sure that if Nicky were here she would be insisting we enjoy the party.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” He chuckled, but fell silent as he saw Jumin working his way through the crowd, towards the podium that had been set up. He sighed. “Here he goes. Did he really have to do this at the party? And couldn’t he have given us a little warning?”

“He made the decision suddenly. Don’t blame me, I just do what I’m told.”

“I know, Jaehee, I never blame you.” He was pleased when she laughed, and he would have said more but Yoosung bounded towards them through the crowd, his sky-blue shirt beneath his charcoal suit accenting the unusual color in his bright eyes.

“Shhh, it’s happening!!” he dove in between them, wrapping an around around each, and Zen rolled his eyes.

“Settle down, Ducky.”

Yoosung pouted, glaring at him. “Stop calling me that, I’m not a duck.”

There was a loud burst of air as Jumin turned on the microphone, and the three of them fell silent along with the rest of the room. He placed his hands on either side of the podium, his white gloves stark against the dark wood. He looked impeccable, as usual. His suit must have cost about three times what Zen would have earned in a year not that long ago, and his tie looked like it had a diamond pin on it. What a waste of good money.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” Jumin’s voice boomed through the room, and several of the guests raised their glasses in response to his greeting. “I am very pleased to see so many of you in attendance to the RFA’s third fund raising event. I wanted to extend a warm welcome on behalf of our lovely and talented party planner, Nicolette. It is unfortunate that she could not be here this evening, but she sends you all her best regards, and has asked that you contact her regarding any feedback you may have regarding tonights festivities. She considers each of you an important part of what we come together to do, and wants to ensure that you understand how valuable you are to her, as well as the RFA as a whole.”

Yoosung leaned over and whispered to Jaehee. “Did she really say that, or is he making it up?” She shrugged, obviously no more in the loop than the rest of them. Zen had to admit, it did sound like the type of thing Nicky would have said, although she probably wouldn’t have been so stuffy about it.

“Many of you are new to RFA events. I see a great deal of fresh and hopeful faces among you. To those of you that have attended before, I am certainly glad you have seen fit to return. However, this is not the same RFA that it was a few years ago. When we first hired Nicolette, we were disjointed, and unfocused. We had been shaken by events out of our control, and we let it divide us. Nicolette was our turning point. As many of you have no doubt experienced first hand, she is a singular woman, and as soon as she became active with us our organization began to change. We gained purpose that we had been lacking before, and we gained meaning in relationships that we never knew how much we needed. She has reminded me of the importance of those relationships, and in particular the importance of family.”

Zen chewed his lower lip, full of anxiety. “Where’s he going with this?” This time Jaehee and Yoosung shrugged together, none of them the wiser.

“It is with this lesson in mind that I must interrupt today’s party, to speak of what my family means to me.” Jumin glanced down, for the first time appearing nervous, and a ripple of surprise scattered across the hushed crowd. “My father has always been someone that I could depend on. Throughout my childhood, he was always a constant, and always there for me when I needed it. I have followed in his footsteps to the best of my abilities not because I am expected to do so as his heir, but because I have insurmountable respect and admiration for him and the things he has accomplished. Despite what was often expected of him and families of our status, he was never distant or cold. I always felt that I was loved and cared for, and I never doubted the truth of this. For this, I want to extend my gratitude, with the utmost sincerity that I have at my disposal.”

Yoosung shook their shoulders. “Look, Mr. Han is crying!”

“Oh, my! I’ve never seen him get so emotional!” Jaehee pressed her knuckles against her lips, shocked.

“That’s all well and good,” Zen told them, “But how is this gonna convince him to dump Glam and Sarah?” the women in question were currently draped on Mr. Han’s arms, and Glam was patting his shoulder in mock reassurance. Sarah wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye, blinking as though to clear more away. For a popular actress and her sister, they were terrible at the craft. Or perhaps he could just see them for what they were, because he had met so many disingenuous people in his life to know better by now.

“It is because of this gratitude and love that I possess for my father that I must make an unpleasant announcement today. It pains me that it has come to this, but I believe that this will be the best way to reveal the truth so that we can move forward. Father, your fiancee Glam has been deceiving you.” A woman in a sharp suit stepped out of the crowd and approached Jumin’s father, carrying a manila folder, which she handed to him. Glam and Sarah, their expressions growing less smug by the minute, started to shuffle their feet. “Thanks to the remarkable efforts of my dear friends, we were able to uncover information that indicates that Glam is not interested in marrying you for love. Furthermore, she has been lying to you about her relationship with Sarah, as well as hiding Sarah’s true identity from you.” Mr. Han flipped through the folder, his expression growing angrier with each new page. “It appears that these women have acted out of desperation, seeking to use our family and company to repair the economic damage that they have done to their own.” Mr. Han jerked his arm away from Glam, holding up the folder. Her eyes were wide with shock, but Zen could see the rage simmering just beneath them.

Jaehee grinned maliciously. “This is where it gets good, he told me about this part.”

“If I had learned this information just a scant twelve days ago, I would have reacted differently to it. I would have used it to threaten Glam and Sarah, to have them thrown in prison for their illegal dealings. I very nearly did this anyway, as they have chosen to strike at my family, at the people I care for most, and their meddling has caused untold pain and hardship to myself, my father, and the members of the RFA. However, as I have stated before, meeting Nicolette has taught me to view life with a deeper sense of compassion. We should not judge those that act out of desperation, and while we cannot condone their actions, we should always extend them the chance to atone. I will, obviously, not be considering the rumored marriage between myself and Sarah Choi. While I cannot speak towards my father’s intent, I sincerely hope that he will also not be pursuing his relationship with Glam any further. Instead, I will offer this chance to these two poor, destitute women. Should you wish it, we will offer you entry level internships at our company. You have shown tenacity, and with the right guidance you could become valuable members of the business community. You would be compensated an acceptable living wage, of course.”

Zen rounded on Jaehee. “What? He wants to _hire_ them?”

“Look at them.” Jaehee tilted her chin at the two women, who were livid, glaring at Jumin as though they were trying to set him on fire with their eyes. “They would never in a million years take such a low paying job. Jumin knew it, and he knows that they’ll turn it down. This way, though, he still looks magnanimous to all the party guests.”

Yoosung’s jaw feel open. “That’s really smart!”

“He apparently sat down and tried to think how Nicky would handle the situation.” Jaehee chuckled. “Though Nicky might have _actually_ tried to forgive them, rather than just pretending to.”

“We can’t all be saints.” Zen shared a grin with Jaehee over Yoosung’s head, her eyes lighting up now that the trap they had set for the scheming women had been sprung.

“I apologize that this needed to be handled in front of everyone, and I hope that this does not dampen your spirits for the party. Please enjoy the food and drink that has been prepared for you in the back of the room, and as you do consider Nicolette and her care for each of you. Thank you.”

He stepped away from the podium, and Zen was surprised when, instead of walking towards his father, he made a beeline towards the three of them standing in the back of the room. His steps were hurried, and Zen got the distinct impression that he would have liked to break out into a run and find somewhere to hide. When he reached them he was breathing heavily through his nose, trying to keep himself composed.

“Well said, Jumin!” Yoosung clapped him on the shoulder and Jumin managed a weak smile.

“Did it work?”

Jaehee stood on her tiptoes and peered around their heads, then set herself back down and nodded. “He’s currently whisper-screaming at Glam, and it doesn’t appear that they are making up.”

Jumin exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. “Thank God.”

“Congratulations!” Yoosung grinned, rolling back and forth on his feet, and Jumin cast a baleful glance towards him.

Zen slammed his hand into the shorter man’s back, sending him stumbling forward. “Oh go be bright and cheerful somewhere else for a bit, Ducky. You’re ruining Jumin’s perfectly good gloom.”

“Hey! Fine, be gloomy. I’m gonna go find my guild leader.” Yoosung stuck his tongue out before he bounded away into the crowd.

Jaehee sighed. “Is he really twenty-one?”

“As Nicolette would say, freshly hatched from his egg.” Jumin smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at Zen appraisingly. “The makeup covers the bruise well. I can’t even tell where I hit you.”

“Yeah, it was damn expensive, you jerk.” He copied Jumin’s stance, crossing his arms and glaring.

“Hm. I can reimburse you, if you wish.”

“You can’t just throw money at every problem.”

“No,” Jumin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, shifting his arms so that he could adjust his cuff links. “But some of them I can. Listen, Zen, I wanted to apologize in person for the way I behaved. To show you my sincerity, I contacted the director of the movie you were cast in, and I’ve ensured that it will be fully funded.”

Zen blinked stupidly for a moment, his mind going blank. “You…you what?”

“Jaehee has mentioned that the part was important to you, and that they may have been having financial problems. I thought…I know that you dislike it when I solve problems with money, but if it meant supporting your work I thought you might make an exception.”

“Supporting…my work?” it was the opposite of anything that he had ever expected from Jumin.

“Of course. Does this surprise you?”

He kicked his toe against the ground, trying to make sense of the situation. “You seem like the type who wouldn’t find acting a very sensible career choice.”

“Well, perhaps not for myself. However, it’s your dream, is it not? I believe that people should pursue their passions. You seem to have a talent for it, and so you should continue working to achieve your goals.” Jumin’s eyebrow crept skyward in a single, quick twitch. “Besides, it’s not like someone as narcissistic as you would find success in many other fields.”

Despite the back handed compliment, Zen couldn’t bring himself to get angry. Everything he had ever hated about Jumin seemed minor now, misplaced. He wasn’t such a bad guy, after all.

“You know, Trust Fund, sometimes you actually don’t suck that much.” He held out his hand, and Jumin reached over and clasped it, the shake firm and full of more meaning than either of them know what to do with.

“Same, Pretty Boy. Thank you, for all your help…with everything.”

They stood there savoring the moment, letting camaraderie settle between them in this strange new world that Nicky had helped craft…and then all at once normalcy returned and they let go and backed away. Not even Nicky had that much power.

“Ugh, this was gross.”

“Agreed. Let’s never speak of it again.” Jumin turned on his heel and walked back into the crowd, but Zen didn’t miss the smirk on his face as he went.

Jaehee sighed again next to his elbow, her lips curved in a bemused smile. “Well, you two almost seemed like normal friends.”

He shrugged. “We’re family. You gotta have the bickering brothers, right?”

“If you say so.” She rolled her eyes and grinned, then turned to walk away towards the party. He reached out and grabbed her elbow to keep her from escaping. It was now or never, and his nerves felt like a bundle of snakes squirming in his stomach.

“Jaehee, wait…can I talk to you for a moment?”

She turned, her eyes wide. The brown in them was very pretty, and he wondered if anyone had ever told her that. They should have. She was stunning.

“Um, of course. Is something wrong?”

He didn’t let go of her elbow, holding her there as though if he let go she might dart away, a frightened deer being hunted by the wolf. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just…” he felt out of his element. This was why he had stopped dating. He’d been with a vapid girl after vapid girl, women that had thrown themselves at him and offered no real depth or affection. Yet when he found ones that he wanted, ones that had interested him, he had never had the nerve to tell them so. He could never quite believe that they could feel something for him in return. No matter how often he preened and practiced in the mirror, he still always saw the ugly little boy who was told his dreams were worthless.

“Zen, are you alright?”

“Jaehee, I would like to ask if you would want to accompany me to dinner sometime. Tonight, if you’re not too busy.”

Her jaw fell open as her cheeks turned scarlet. “I…do you mean as a…”

“A date. You and I, on a date.” He felt his own cheeks burning, and he wished that a hole would open beneath him and swallow him in the ground.

“Yes.”

“What?” he was stunned into silence as he looked at her, eyes fluttering shyly.

“I would be happy to. To go on a date. With you.”

“Really?” emboldened by the affirmation, he stepped in a little closer to her. He caught the trail of her perfume wafting off the collar of her dress, and she smelled like summer moonlight.

“Yes, but…what brought this on?” she was blushing so deeply that there were freckles standing out on her cheeks that he had never noticed before. He wanted to count them with his lips.

All at once his nerves faded away, and he realized that this plunge was everything that he had wanted to do since he had met her. She was quiet, and passionate, and she supported him unwaveringly. She was beautiful in a unique and wonderful way, and she knew the value of working hard for the things that she wanted in life. She was his friend, his confidant, and he had spent an inordinate amount of time convincing himself that he didn’t want her to be more. Now that seemed strange, completely insane that he had denied it. It seemed ridiculous that he had waited so long to make a move, when his feelings for her were so strong.

He brought his hand away from her elbow, pressing his palm against her cheek. “In truth, I asked because it was a promise that I made to Nicky, but…I’ve been wanting to do this for a very, very long time.” He tipped her face upward and leaned down, brushing his lips against her own. She tasted like tea and spice, like warm coffee on a rainy day. She leaned into him, melting into the kiss, and he knew that there had never been, nor would be, another woman that he wanted to kiss more.


	43. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin isn't left out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. Y'ALL. I have feelings about Jumin, okay? A LOT OF FEELINGS.
> 
> Also additional fluff, enjoy it while it lasts. ^^

“Okay, this is all set. Can you pull over at the next spot so I can get a solid signal?” he lifted his hands off the keyboard, cracking his knuckles to ease the strain that had built up in his fingers. His neck and shoulders felt like someone had been spiking nails into his bones, and he tried to stretch as best he could. He regretted it when the muscles along his stomach responded, tugging at the edges of the stitches and sending lancing pain across his middle. He winced, wishing the “secret hideout” he had located was closer, so that he didn’t have to do all of this hunched in a stupid car seat.

“You got it, captain Saeyoung!” she winked and gave him a cheeky salute, her smile indefatigable. She had been a source of endless support since they had left the apartment in their dust, and he had appreciated every minute of it. She checked on him when he looked stressed, offered condolences when he expressed frustration, and did her best to follow the route he had put in her phone without bothering him for instructions too often. Not that he minded when she did, of course. It was cute that she didn’t seem to have any sense of direction whatsoever. It was also cute that she hummed quietly along to the songs on the radio, and that she wore the pair of sunglasses she had bought for her dance as though they were the most stylish things she owned.

Before it would have been nothing but a distraction. His concentration would have been fractured as he watched the light make her hair look like it was glowing, or the way the shadows passed over the bridge of her nose every time they drove beneath the boughs of the trees lining the highway. He supposed it was still a little distracting, but not like it could have been. It was different knowing that she would be there when he finished work. It was different knowing that when all was said and done he could wrap her in his arms as his reward for a job well done.

She pulled the car onto a small side road just off the highway. It was unpaved, and dust kicked up behind the wheels as she followed it to a dead end against the mountainside. She put the car in park, missed the gear shift, and then swore as it stalled out. She turned the car on and tried again, this time getting the timing right, the engine ticking after shutting off as though in admonishment for her lack of driving finesse.

“I swear to god I will get the hang of manual if it kills me.”

He laughed as she fumed at the poor car, reaching across the seat the tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Hey, why don’t you get out and stretch your legs for a bit. Take a break. This will take a minute, anyhow.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling it to the side of her face and holding it against her cheek, her anger melting into adoration as she looked at him. “Alright. You’ll let me know if you need me?”

“You bet.” He nodded, and she returned the gesture before opening the car door and stretching, standing on her tiptoes as her fingers reached to the sky.

He tore his eyes away from her and focused on his task, starting up the programs as the satellite signal stabilized. He ran his commands and waited for the beep that would let him know that he was in. While he waited, he looked up to see that Nicky had walked a few feet away from the car, kicking small rocks on the ground with the toes of her shoes and sending them sailing into the tree line. She spun on her heel, doing a short pirouette, then threw out her arms as she nearly lost balance when the dust provided less traction than she had anticipated. He suppressed his laugh as he watched her set herself to rights, pushing the sunglasses onto the top of her head so she could glare at the ground as though it had personally offended her.

He had been thinking about what he was going to say to the agency all morning, but as he watched Nicky dance around in the middle of nowhere, he realized that he knew exactly what should be said. His program beeped, and the laptop announced his access to the communication systems.

He leaned close to his microphone, keeping his eyes locked on Nicky as he talked. “Hello! I’m going to assume that this thing is on, since that’s what I told the program to do. Hiya, Boss! Miss me? I certainly hope so. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since I quit the other day. And yes, I _did_ quit. Sorry I didn’t give much notice.” Nicky was now doing part of the dance routine that she had done in the hallway, waving at him to let him know that she saw him and was performing for his benefit, and his smile grew wide and warm. “You see, I found something better out there for me, and I intend to keep it. Something worth fighting for. The thing is, you seem to have something _else_ that’s important to me, so I’m calling today to tell you that I want it back.” Nicky blew him a kiss before she looked up at the sky, spinning in a circle with her arms thrown wide. “When I say that I’ve found things worth fighting for, you should know that I mean it, and I think we both know that if I’m in the fight you don’t want to be the person on the other end of that battle. I don’t think I have to tell you that I’m not making an empty threat here. I have all the information that I or the government could ever want about your little organization.” He took a deep breath, lowering his voice so they would understand just how serious he was. “Agent Vanderwood seems to have taken my brother by mistake. If you don’t want this information leaked, then you will turn him over to me. If you hurt him in my stead, or try to use him to get revenge, I swear that there is no force on this earth that will stop me from coming after each and every one of you.” The wind whipped Nicky’s hair to the side as she spun, and she was like a scene from a movie, missing only dramatic music to complete the effect. He brightened his voice, returning it to his usual cavalier volume. “So I look forward to hearing from you soon. See ya Boss, give Vanderwood my love!”

He severed the connection, closing his laptop and setting it on the floor of the car. He opened the door, and he was hit with the frigid wind as it whistled into the gap. He shivered, shaking his head because she had been jumping around in that temperature without her jacket the entire time that she had been out there. He stepped out of the car and walked towards her, sloughing his own coat off his shoulders. She turned when she heard his approach, holding her hair behind her ears as the wind picked up. The sky above them dimmed and darkened, filling with clouds from an oncoming storm. Still, rays of sunlight shot through the gloom and found their way to light her face, and she smiled and skipped forward to meet him.

He broke into a run, and when he reached her he snatched her up in his arms, wrapping her in the jacket and spinning them around in a circle. She laughed, the breeze sucking the sound away and carrying it up the mountainside.

He kissed her, tasting the wind on her lips, cold from exposure. “You’re going to catch pneumonia dancing around in the cold like that.”

“You’re going to catch pneumonia taking your jacket off when you have stitches.” She wrinkled her nose, trying to wriggle free.

He pulled his arms closer together, tightening his hold. “I’m pretty sure stitches don’t make you more susceptible to colds.”

“I’m pretty sure any injury makes you more susceptible to colds.” She leaned onto the tips of her toes and caught his lips with her own. When she pulled back her expression was softer, and he could see the worry beneath all her exuberance. “How did it go?”

“Message sent. Now we wait for the reply.” He felt an icy stab of cold hit the back of his neck, and he looked up to see that the clouds had swallowed the sky, the wind howling through the branches of the trees. He hugged her tighter and lifted her off the ground, walking her to the car while she giggled. “Come on, we should get going before we add soaking wet to the list of reasons we’re both going to catch pneumonia.” The muscles around his injury were screaming as he moved with her weight added to his own, but he ignored them. Her sweet laughter was worth the strain.

“Put me down, you’re going to tear your stitches!”

He couldn’t get anything past her. “Yes, ma’am.” He set her down gently, wincing as the muscles in his abdomen contracted. “Here, let me take over driving, you’ve gotta be tired by now.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need to do anymore work?”

He shook his head. “Not until we get to the secret hideout. I want to give you a break though.”

“Thanks, although I like driving so it’s really no trouble.”

“Really? You like driving even though you have no idea where you’re going half the time?”

She threw her fist into his shoulder, scowling. “Hey, I got us this far!

“Sure! We took the scenic route, right?” he bumped their shoulders together, and she tried to continue scowling but burst into laughter instead.

“Okay, you win, you can drive, oh wise and proud navigator.”

“I thought I was the captain?”

“You can’t be both.” She reached out and grabbed the car door handle, clicking it open and swinging around to face him as she pulled it. “Now I get to be the captain, and call all the shots.”

“Oh good, I’m sure we can get lost in new and exciting ways then.” He darted out of the way as she lunged at him, both laughing as he ran around to the other side of the car. They climbed in, and he wasn’t able to escape her hand as she reached over and tugged his earlobe. “Ow!”

“I’m a musician, you know? I spent my time on reading music. I’m sure I could read a map if I studied.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pouting in mock fury. She was cute when she was mad, too.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tease you about the fact that you could get lost inside a shoe box anymore.”

She burst into laughter, then clapped her hand over her mouth, glaring at him while she tried to suppress her giggles. “Dammit, no, that’s not funny. Stop grinning like that!”

“With you by my side? Impossible!” he reached over and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips as he squeezed her fingers.

She sighed, leaning back in the seat and buckling in. “Should we send an update to everybody?”

He turned on the car, revving the engine and adjusting the mirrors to account for the fact that he was a good two feet taller than her. “They’re all at the party. I don’t want to dampen the mood.”

“That sounds a whole lot like keeping a secret that you pretend is for their benefit.” She waggled her finger at him, smirking because she knew damn well that she was right, and he loved her for it.

“Alright, you caught me. Still, they probably won’t see it until later. We’ll update when we reach the secret base, I promise.”

“Okay, I trust you.” She lowered the sunglasses back over her eyes and gave him the most facetious salute he had ever seen. “Onward, trusty navigator!!”

He obeyed, because how could he resist the commands of such a cute captain?

***

He wandered over to the table, throwing himself in the chair and trying not to be too dramatic about it. He was trying to be positive, because it was what Nicky would have wanted, but it just wasn’t the same without Seven - no, Saeyoung - there with them. Plus, Nicky didn’t get to come to the party that she planned, and none of it seemed very fair. Yoosung just wanted everyone to have a chance to hang out together, but it seemed that was too much to ask at a time like this.

“Stop moping.” Jumin’s voice made him jump, and he half turned to see the taller man looming behind him.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh really? Look who’s talking.”

Jumin glared at him, and for a minute he thought he was going to start chasing him around the ballroom like he had at his apartment, but in the end his face broke into a teeny, tiny smile. “Fair point.”

Yoosung turned away from him, resting his elbow on the table so that he could prop his chin in his hand. He looked out across the crowds, the people laughing and mingling, a room full of strangers becoming friends. She had picked good guests, and everything seemed to be having a wonderful time. He could even see one couple locking lips in the corner, and he started to chuckle until he realized that the long silver hair on the man and short, simple dress on the woman were entirely too familiar, and he choked on the air in his lungs as it all tried to leave his body at once.

“Geez, are you alright? That sound was ridiculous.” Jumin’s lip curled as he looked down at him, and Yoosung couldn’t bring himself to form words, so he reached out and grabbed his friend’s arm, using his free hand to point at the spectacle. “What are you -” Jumin made a sound that was somewhere between a wheeze and a gasp.

“That’s Zen and Jaehee, right? I’m not hallucinating?” Yoosung’s voice shook as he tried to hold in his hysterical giggles.

Jumin’s eyebrow was twitching as he stared at them. “That’s the most disturbing thing I have ever seen in my life. I think I’m going to be ill.”

That was it. That was all Yoosung could handle, and he could hold it in no longer. He burst into laughter, holding his stomach as it shook his entire body, mirth filling him from head to toe. Jumin looked like he had swallowed an entire barrel of frogs, and that sent him careening into another fit of giggles. His sides started cramping, and every time he looked at the couple across the room he started up all over again.

“Clearly this _spectacle_ has robbed you of the last shreds of your sanity.”

Yoosung took a deep, shaking breath. “And a new couple is born in the RFA!” he wiped a tear of joy from the corner of his eye, trying to gather his composure again. “Guess we’re the only two left that aren’t a couple.”

Jumin took half a step away from him, giving him a dubious look. “I do not like the implication of what you just said.”

“What did I…?” he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what he meant, and then it all clicked together at once. “Ew! Gross!” he scooted his chair a few inches further from Jumin. The pair of them glared at each other for a moment before they both started laughing.

Jumin shook his head, still smiling. “We can never tell Saeyoung and Nicolette about this conversation.”

“We’d never hear the end of it.” Yoosung agreed, and then he sighed. “Still, I do think they’re all really lucky. They’ve all found someone, and I’m just gonna end up forever alone.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain of that.” Jumin cleared his throat, then placed his hand on the back of Yoosung’s chair to turn him a few inches to the left, so that he was facing the other end of the room. There was a girl standing in his line of view now, leaning against the wall and looking unsure of herself. She had long blonde hair, tied up in a pretty - and complicated - braid atop her head, and she was chewing on her lower lip as her eyes darted around the crowd. She wore an olive green dress, and he couldn’t be sure at this distance, but it looked like the necklace she wore around her neck might have been some kind of sword. She was…very pretty.

“Who’s that?” Yoosung’s throat felt dry, and he struggled to swallow even as he tried not to stare.

Jumin made him jump when his voice sounded right next to his ear. “I’ve been instructed to tell you that her name is Anna, though you are more likely to recognize her as Chenji Starkiller.”

Yoosung swiveled around in his chair, gaping at Jumin. “What?! She’s here?! She’s really a girl?! That’s what she looks like in real life?!?!?!”

“Apparently.”

“Oh my god. Oh, my god. Oh my _god._ Do you even know who that is? She’s like, one of the best players in LOLOL. I heard she once took out a raid boss _by herself._ She’s a legend!” his voice was rising in pitch, and he had to struggle to keep it under a whisper. At some point he had grabbed Jumin’s arm, and he was crushing it, holding on for dear life as he stared at the girl across the room. “I’ve watched replays of her matches for _hours_ trying to figure out her techniques.”

Jumin extricated his arm, smirking. “Indeed. She’s your guest, you know.”

“What?” the word was a squeak more than a question, but he couldn’t bring himself to try again.

“Nicolette informed me last night that she extended the invitation to her on your behalf. She believes that you two would get along, and has been speaking very highly of you over the last week in her messages with Anna. I’ve been instructed to ensure you speak with her and play a proper host for the rest of the party.” He wasn’t quite smiling, but the faint grin that was on Jumin’s face was as smug as it could be.

He felt his cheeks burning, and he knew that he was probably turning a dark shade of red. “Oh god, I can’t _talk_ to her!”

Jumin chuckled. “Here, let me help.” Without warning he raised his hand, waving it back and forth until he caught the girl’s attention. She tilted her head to the side, looking at him with curiosity, and a tendril of golden hair fell out of the braid and across her shoulder. Jumin motioned her over, then yanked Yoosung out of his seat, pointing to his head.

He smiled, although it felt rigid amidst the panic in his chest. “What are you doing?”

She was walking over to them, it was already too late. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? Nicky had never even hinted that she had done anything like this. He was so unprepared.

“First, breathe. Second, she loves games and she’s going to school to be an engineer of some kind, so talk to her about that. Third, continue breathing, and remind yourself that you’re an adult, this is not the first time you have socialized with a girl before, and that Nicolette picked her as your friend for the day for a reason. Please try to remember that Anna arrived under the assumption that she would be meeting you, so you are already halfway to victory.”

“Victory?! What are you talking about, is this a battle?” he hissed the words furiously as Anna worked her way around a huddle of people, politely avoiding touching any of them. She caught his gaze as she emerged from between two women laughing loudly over slices of cheese. She had crystal blue eyes, the color of cotton candy, and her smile made his knees feel too wobbly to work any longer.

“Doesn’t the saying go that love is a battlefield?” Jumin shoved his hand into Yoosung’s back, propelling him forward a few steps so that he nearly bowled her over. He righted himself just in time, standing up straight to look full in the face of the graceful creature that he was more terrified of than anything he had ever been in his entire life.

“H-hi.”

She blushed, looking down at her sparkly shoes. “Hi. Are you Yoosung?”

“Yes.” He stood there stupidly for a moment, and she shuffled her feet, neither of them knowing what to say. He realized that she looked just as nervous as he felt, and that made him sad. He didn’t want her to be nervous around him, that didn’t seem very welcoming. If Nicky had promised he would be a good host, he certainly didn’t want to disappoint them both with one awkward meeting. He held out his hand, putting on the brightest smile that he could muster. “Sorry, let me try that again. I’m Yoosung. I’m a big fan of your PVP matches.”

She took his hand, her fingers small against his own, and he held them for maybe a few seconds too long because her cheeks turned pink again. “Hi, Yoosung. I’m Anna. I…probably spend too much time playing, but I’m glad to hear somebody appreciates it.”

“Nice to meet you Anna, and don’t worry, everybody says that I play too much, too. Sorry I’m so late in finding you, my friends only just told me I was supposed to be keeping you company.” He let go of her fingers and rubbed the back of his head, grinning at her.

“Oh, that’s alright.” She waved her hands back and forth frantically, trying to dismiss the apology. “It’s not like there wasn’t a show to keep me occupied.” She glanced at the stage, where Jumin had given his speech, then turned back to face Yoosung. “You have strange friends.”

She smirked, and Yoosung was lost.

“True, but they’re very lovable when you get to know them.” He turned and extended his arm, and she laced her own around his elbow. She was warm, and when he turned to look at her she was peering up at him through her lashes. She smelled like lightning on a summer night, and his skin tingled wherever they touched. “Come on, I can introduce you to a few of them.”

They walked across the party together, and Yoosung decided that Saeyoung had been right, after all. Love was alive, and she had ice blue eyes and a sword around her neck.

***

Jumin watched them walk away, and was very careful to keep his smiling to a minimum. He could hardly comprehend how Nicolette could read people so well all the time, but she had done an especially stellar job pairing those two together. Yoosung looked like he had found the moon beneath the clouds, and his face was glowing as he talked to the jittery girl on his arm. A good choice, and he wished Yoosung luck in making good use of the gift their party planner had bestowed on him. Now that his task was complete, however, Jumin found himself at a loss as to what to do with the rest of his time.

He glanced at the other end of the crowded room, over the heads of the exuberant guests, and he watched as Zen laced fingers with Jaehee, planting a kiss on her knuckles. So, that had been Zen’s assigned task, it would seem. Nicolette’s cryptic messages from the morning had definitive purpose, after all. Another good pairing. He would never admit it out loud, but he was happy for them, as well. Jaehee was very hard working and level headed, and she could use the ridiculous whimsy that Zen would bring to her life. Zen would be better for it as well, as he would finally have something to focus his affections on besides his own face. Perhaps through the admiration of each other they would lose the self-consciousness they held in themselves.

So, the whole of the RFA was occupied, enthralled in the new joys that Nicolette had brought to their lives. All but him. He deserved the solitude, and he knew this, but still it stung to feel as though he were watching the world pass by around him, leaving him behind. He plucked a flute of champagne off a tray as a caterer flurried past him, taking a sip and letting it sit in his mouth, the bubbles settling against his tongue. Was it possible to feel full for others and yet still so empty for himself?

“Mr. Han?” he turned towards the voice, seeing a tall woman in a grey dress looking at him curiously, her red lips frozen in a polite but vague smile.

“Yes, hello.” He extended his hand towards her and she took it, her handshake firmer than he had expected. “I hope you are enjoying the party.”

She released his hand and clasped her own in front of her, her posture impeccable. “Yes, it’s very lovely. Nicky has done quite well with this project. It’s good to see her blossoming.”

“You speak as though you know her.”

“I do.” Her eyebrow quirked, and she nearly grinned, but not quite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Ash Kirkpatrick.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Kirkpatrick.”

This time she did smirk, tilting her head to the side. “Mrs.Kirkpatrick, actually. My wife would never forgive me if I didn’t correct you.” He smiled politely, and they lapsed into silence. It was strange, but standing with her and letting the world pass them by didn’t feel as abrasive as it did with others. Ash seemed more content to watch the world and see what would happen, and less like she was frantically seeking some action to take against it. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” he blinked at her, unsure what response she was seeking.

“Nicky has told me a great deal about you. She asked that I come here today to meet you, in particular.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, did she wish to happen once we met?” If it were anything like the other meetings Nicky had arranged, he would become very uncomfortable in a very short amount of time. Dallying with married women was not a pastime he wished to begin.

“She said things had been difficult for you lately, and when she reached out to me to ask how she could best help, I recommended that I speak to you directly.”

“Ah.” He sipped his champagne to give himself something to do, his heart beating faster as a steady vibrato of panic hummed between his ears.

“Does it bother you that she spoke of you?”

“No. It bothers me that I don’t understand your intentions. Or hers.”

“Her intentions?” Ash smiled, her eyes losing focus as though she were drifting down the corridors of memory. “Her intentions are almost always to help others. Do you know what she told me when she spoke of her professor?”

“You knew…no, what did she say?” she had his full attention now, his fear and discomfort forgotten in the puzzle of this stranger who seemed to know Nicolette so well.

“She told me that her biggest regret was that she couldn’t find a way to be herself without hurting him. Not the healthiest train of thought, because his happiness and pain were never her burdens to bear. Still, through it all, she had only wanted to find out how to help him stop hurting. Those are the kind of intentions that she has.” She looked out across the crowd, giving him a respite from her penetrating gaze. “She’s a soul more giving than most you would find, and its a miracle she holds on to that through the darkness that she lives through.”

“Who are you? Who are you really, that you know this about her?”

The smirk returned to her lips, though she still stared at the party goers and their extensive revelry. “Her therapist.”

“Her therapist?”

She turned her eyes back onto him, the exact same grey as her dress. “You don’t get assaulted by your favorite professor and not get a therapist afterward. She worked very hard to be as okay as she is now, you know.”

He frowned, feeling rage bubbling up inside him. “Should you be talking so openly of her treatment, then?”

“I have her full permission. In writing, if you need the proof. She thought you might have a reaction like that if the topic came up, so we covered our bases.”

Nicolette had sent her therapist as his special surprise. Zen was given courage, Yoosung was given hope, and Jumin was reminded that he was broken. He looked at his feet, his breath feeling heavy in the back of his throat. “So, she believes I need therapy.”

“No, _I_ think you need therapy. She merely wanted to know how best she could help you. I’ve only heard a little of what happened, as she hasn’t been in for a visit since the week after her incident at school. However, I’ve been in this business long enough to know a master of repression when one comes along.”

He turned away from her, his fingers growing tight around the stem of his glass. “You have quite a lot of nerve to speak so frankly about someone you’ve only just met.”

“You’re angry.”

“Of course I’m angry.” He snapped the rejoinder at her, regretting the haste to his words immediately. He took a breath and evened out his tone. “Who are you to judge what I’m feeling?”

“And what of Nicky’s judgment? She was worried enough about you that she reached out for help. Don’t you think that warrants investigation?” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. This isn’t what she asked me to do. I shouldn’t be pushing my own solutions onto your situation. You’re right, I don’t know enough to make any real judgments.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“I wanted to deliver a message. Based on my limited understanding of what happened, you reacted poorly to stress because you didn’t understand your feelings. The thing that I really wanted to say to you is that you should take more time to try to understand yourself, to understand what your feelings mean, so that you can embrace the good ones and address the bad ones.”

To understand…he could not deny that his misunderstanding of the things in his own heart had led to half the problems from those long hours in his apartment. He couldn’t understand how he felt about Nicolette, he couldn’t understand why Sarah had gotten under his skin so much. He couldn’t understand what he was feeling regarding the betrayals of V and Saeyoung. Worse, he had been unable to comprehend the depths of the pain his father had been causing him. He had looked at those things as unsolvable mysteries, locking them away with what he presumed would never be a second thought. Yet he had behaved so outside of his normal patterns, so far outside of his own moral standards. Had he truly only needed understanding? He had sought it from others, but perhaps that level of understanding must be drawn from within. Perhaps he had to face the emptiness to quell its roar.

“I…” he swallowed, words failing him yet again. “I don’t believe I know how.”

“You do, you just don’t know it.” She tilted her head to the side again, thoughtful. “Have you ever written a particularly tricky business proposal, Mr. Han?”

He blinked. “I…yes?”

“When you draw up a proposal, are you the only one who ever sees it before it’s final?”

“No, of course not.” He scoffed, looking away from her damnable gaze. “We have consultants, and proofreaders. It is always better to work with multiple minds to ensure the best outcome.”

“Think of your mind as a proposal. A body of work that you put time and effort into, with the result being the concept of the life you want to live. A therapist’s job is to be your consultant. We look through your ideas, and we proofread your actions, and we help you find the parts that aren’t working, or aren’t beneficial. That way, at the end of the day, you have the strongest ideals to move forward with.”

“I had never thought about it like that.”

“Maybe you should.” She smirked, then pulled a card out of her jacket pocket, holding it out to him. “You have the tools you need, Jumin, you just need a good consultant to decide which ones will serve you best. You’ve made great strides with that speech you gave today, and I know that you can overcome all those things you try to keep stuffed inside. Contact me if you ever decide you want help with those efforts. And remember, Nicky cares about you and only wanted to help. She said you were there for her when she needed it most, so for that you have my thanks.”

“I…” he took the card, folding it into the palm of his hand. “I will consider your suggestion, for Nicolette’s sake.”

“Good. And if I may offer one final piece of advice?”

He smiled, sincerely this time. “As long as you aren’t trying to charge me yet.”

“No, not yet!” she laughed. “My final suggestion, is that you go over,” she pointed over his shoulder, and he turned to look where she indicated, catching sight of his father sitting and staring out the window, looking more despondent than Jumin had ever seen him, “and you be the bigger person and comfort your father. You were wronged by him, but he was wronged by others, and that will hurt no less because he has a guilty conscience.”

Jumin didn’t bother to thank her or say goodbye, as she was already walking away while he watched the man he had always admired as a rigid stone of reliance crumble before his eyes. His father finally looked his age, and this time Jumin didn’t try to deny how painful it was to see him as such, to see him reduced to sorrow by the hands of cruel women who thought of nothing beyond their own gains. For all his lofty speech had promised compassion, Jumin had skirted applying the virtue where it had been needed most, avoiding the heart of the matter because it was the most difficult.

He tucked the therapist’s card in his pocket and walked forward, slipping through occupied guests until he reached the quiet corner that his father had found. The older man’s elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him. His head hung low between his shoulders, weary from the weight of all that had transpired today, weary with the weight of things Jumin had preferred to imagine his father never felt. He sat in the space on the bench next to him, facing the other direction, and set his drink on the floor so that his hands were free to adjust his cuff links. It was fidgeting, and he had always hated to fidget when his father was present, but in this moment he could not help it. He needed something to do to distract himself from the broken role model seated beside him.

“I suppose I owe you my gratitude.” The voice that emerged from the strong man did not reflect his usual demeanor. It was weak, and raspy, and full of things that were supposed to have been vanquished by the vanguard of success and prosperity.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Isn’t it, though? I met a monster and fell in love, and you were the knight that broke her spell. You saved our company. Our dignity. I should be grateful.” His words were meant to convince himself, not to honor Jumin. He resented the truth, and Jumin realized that part of him had known it for some time know, but he had refused to face its light. Harsh, dark; honesty had been jaws that tore away pieces of the heart to feed the wolves, and it was easier to allow himself to be blinded by the soothing lies. If you couldn’t see the fangs, then surely you could not feel their bite.

Like father, like son.

“I didn’t do it for your gratitude. Nor did I do it for our company, or reputation. I stood up for myself, and my family, and I would do it a hundred times over, no matter how thankless a task.”

“That’s noble of you.” The words weren’t sarcastic, but they were bitter. “I wish that I had been a better father, so that I could take credit for that trait.”

Jumin pivoted on the bench, turning to face him. “You were a wonderful father.”

“I nearly sold you for a warm lie and a bed that was no longer empty at the end of the day.” Tears rimmed his eyes, dropping like stones in the riverbed, ripples across his cheeks wherever they fell. “What kind of a father could do such a thing?”

 “I’m sure you had your reasons.” He wasn’t sure he believed the words, but he recited them all the same. He was at a loss, and he had little time to gather his thoughts. He had always felt loved by his father, but he had never seen him emotional, and it was daunting to be presented the duty of guiding them through such troubled waters as it was. This man who needed comfort was unknown to Jumin, but he yearned to provide whatever aid he could.

“She was so kind to me, Jumin. She spoke so highly of you, as well. She just kept telling me to push through with it, that she was only trying to make you happy, and that we would have to force you into it at first but that it would turn out in the end.” His knuckles turned white as he squeezed his hands together. “I believed her. I believed that _forcing_ you would be the road to happiness, like the happiness that I thought I had found with her.”

 Jumin smiled, though it held no joy to his lips.It was fitting that Saeyoung’s words would be applicable now, of all times. “A wise man I know once told me that love isn’t about control, it’s about surrender. You can’t force the people you care for into being happy. That isn’t how happiness works.”

His father made a sound that was the marriage of a cold laugh and a defeated sigh. “Wise indeed. Wisdom from the mouths of babes.”

“Wisdom comes when you most need it. You should not fret the source.” He felt as though the card in his pocket grew heavier at the words, and he knew that there were better ways forward than the ones that he had always used. Nicolette had come to them when they had most needed her, and her compassion reached ever outward, even when she could not be there to distribute it from her own hands. He had feared she thought him broken, but she had only sent him the wisdom that she herself had found helpful. In doing so, she could not think himself more broken than her, and he would be honored to be half as whole as she. Jumin was not in love with her. Not in any way that resembled the way that Saeyoung loved her. He could see that now, could see the bond they shared now that he had seen them chat and looked for the spark. Jumin had never felt that towards another person, and that was likely because he never allowed himself to feel such things. After knowing Nicolette, however, and seeing the brilliance that she could gift them with by opening her heart, he thought that perhaps it was time to do more than avoid the loneliness. It was time to do more than get by on the meager warmth that he stole from the fringe of friends he never quite let in. He had never loved the way that Saeyoung loved, but he thought that someday he might like to.

“Jumin…I’m so sorry. I let everything get so out of hand, and I’m so sorry for any grief it might have caused you. You have spoken fairly and eloquently tonight, and with far more grace and sense than I have ever shown a day in my life. I will try to do better from now on. I will try to be better for you.” His father placed a hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze with tear swaddled eyes. “You’ve accomplished so much, and I’m so proud of you. I will never let my loneliness make me forget that again.”

There was heat behind his own eyes, and rather than quell it with ice he embraced it, letting his emotions tumble in streams from his gaze. “You don’t have to be lonely. You aren’t ever alone. You have me, and I’ll always be your son.”

His father pulled him into a hug, crushing and real, and Jumin let himself cry against his shoulder for the first time in many, many years. He hadn’t realized that, through the desire he had pursued to abandon the emotions he refused to understand, somewhere along the way he had lost his father. Somewhere the thread between them had frayed, and they had both been left clinging to empty ends that offered no anchor in the storm. Through pride and suppression they had made themselves alone, and it was through the defeat of betrayal that they had found one another again.

The roaring emptiness fell silent, filled with the realization that he was only as alone as he wished to be. With his father, and the RFA, he would never again have to fight the darkness on his own. This truth he would never turn away from, and he would remind himself of it at the dawn of each day and the fall of every night.

Jumin Han was not alone.


	44. An Obvious Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vanderwood reflects on the past.

Goldilocks switched off the recording, 707’s voice clicking silent with a finality that made Vanderwood uncomfortable. Goldi leaned back in her chair with a grin on her face that made her look like a painted shark, her lips slathered in that god-awful color which always reminded Vanderwood of salt water taffy. The boy - Saeran, or whatever - stood hunched in the corner, his eyes darting around the room with erratic movements that made her want to slap him. He was a creepy little shit.

“Well!” Goldilocks was still grinning, and it still looked hideous. “Looks like you were right. He does seem to have a certain attachment to you. I wish I would’ve known about you sooner. I could have gotten all kinds of things out of him.”

“But you’ll kill him now, right?” Saeran twitched. Vanderwood wondered if he was even aware that he was a living bundle of overstrung nerves, shivering and shuddering in turns, eyes full of madness and loathing. What the fuck had happened to him? How could _this_ kid be in any way related to the goofball agent that had been her partner for the last few years?

“No help for it.” Goldilocks shrugged and sighed, and Vanderwood knew she probably _was_ disappointed in the way things had turned out, although it wasn’t because she had any attachment to 707. She’d lost her favorite pet, her most useful tool, and the rest of them were going to pay for it at some point when the bitch had a meltdown because nobody else could meet their goddamn deadlines like he could. He’d screwed them all, her first and foremost, and the bruise on her temple throbbed as she remembered the last time she had seen him. _Give Vanderwood my love!_ Right, as if. Love had died a million years ago, and the only things left to them were pointless struggles and emotional wastelands.

Saeran leered like a jackal. “Good. When?”

“You’re eager. I like that. You wouldn’t happen to have any of the same skills as your brother, would you?” Goldi leaned forward on the desk, the wood crying out in protest as her meaty elbows slapped against it. “I could compensate you generously, of course.”

“Sorry, I’m already employed.” He smiled, but it was skeletal. Vanderwood doubted that he ever truly smiled. His face made the motions, but his brain didn’t understand what they meant, and so it always looked hollow and dead. A ghost, walking among them and pretending that he belonged.

“Shame.” Goldi turned away from him, pretending to look over the papers on her desk, and Vanderwood knew she didn’t give two flying fucks whether this kid already had a job or not. He was stupid if he thought he was walking out of this of his own volition.

Then again, 707 was being equally stupid right now, so maybe it ran in the family.

She had never known him to be a reckless kid. He had always been the calmest among them when they were on jobs, doing stupid shit to lighten the mood when the stress would have made the weaker among them crack. He took the disappearances in stride, and never faltered moving forward. He was smart, probably the smartest person she had ever met, and she had always thought it was a damn shame that his talents had been turned to such shit purposes. The world didn’t favor the gifted, though. It used them up, ran them dry until they had nothing left to give, and then it threw them away to die with the rest of the garbage people that were stuck on this planet.

So if 707 wasn’t stupid, what the hell was he doing falling for such an obvious trap? He had to know they would have figured out they had nabbed the wrong kid, and should have known they would use them as a hostage. He had been doing this work for too long to be oblivious to the fact that he would be walking into the wolf’s den. Except the wolves had guns, and they were a lot more vengeful. It wasn’t even like there was some close brotherly bond between them, either. Vanderwood didn’t have to see them together to know that Saeran hated 707 with all his might. Any time he was so much as mentioned his twitchy blue eyes would fill with unfiltered rage. His brother wanted him dead, and he wanted him to suffer as much as possible before hand. Why would 707 risk his freedom for that? Especially if he had run off to be with that girl. He had gone through the trouble of sacrificing everything that he had worked for just to save her pretty little head, and now that wasn’t good enough? He should take what he could get and never look back. He should be grateful that he had even that. You never reached for the stars when the light of a candle would do. Stupid, sentimental idiot.

_“God dammit, they’re still on us!” she sobbed half the words, smoke still sticking in the back of her throat. The flames billowed behind them, thick clouds of boiling hate ripping into the sky._

_He pushed the car into another gear, ignoring her outburst. His expression was stony, frozen in place, his eyes riveted to the road. She admired his calm even as she wanted to claw his eyes out. No one had a right to be calm right now. No one had a right to be okay._

_Gunshots pinged against the back of the car and he punched the gas, taking them around the corner at an alarming angle, tires skidding across the pavement. The chaos faded behind them, and as they drove on silence filled the space between them beneath the roar of the engine. She stared at nothing, gaping at the emptiness that filled the world. She had to hold her breath, only allowing little bursts of air through, because anything larger would become hysterical cries, and she would not submit to that failure. She would not let anyone see her mourn._

_They stopped in the middle of nowhere, 707 pulling into a turn off point that was barely more than a ditch. He switched the car off, and she pretended not to see the tremor in his fingers as they held the keys. He was pale; paler than usual. He opened the car door and stepped out, slamming it shut and leaning against it, his back to her. He stayed there, his face up above the line of the car, and it was the most alone that she could feel in the world._

_She knew what he was doing, and she would have said thanks if she weren_ _’t such a proud bitch. Instead she stuffed the edges of her knuckles in her mouth to muffle the sobs as she broke down, everything crashing onto her shoulders. Her memories spiraled out of control in her head, ramming into her like bullets that ripped her to pieces. Green eyes boring into her own, hushed breath against the back of her neck, fingers coiled in clothing as they stole away to a fucking broom closet. If she counted all the times she had been happy in her life, he had been part of almost all of them, her port in this fucked up storm. She had run from hell and into the arms of the agency, which was a different kind of hell in its own right, but then he had been there with her and it had all been okay._

_She could still see his pretty green eyes before the flames had come, his hand shoved through the air as she had reached back for him. She was a sentimental fool to think there would have ever been any other ending._

_She wiped her face, scrubbing at her skin to get rid of the tears. She would be red, but it was better than being soggy. She took a deep breath, wrapping another layer of steel around her heart and bolting it shut. One more reason to never smile, one more reason to never look beyond the edge of her own nose. One more reason the world was a shit prison that they would all be trapped in until they died._

_He opened the car door and got back in, his eyes red and shining. He placed his hands on the steering wheel, holding it like an anchor to sanity. It was a worthless effort; there was no such thing as sanity. There was hate, and rage, and then there was the cold reality of death. When shit went bad, it went Bad with a capital B, and it never got better from there. Life was downhill, and nobody stayed sane when they lived the way they did._

_“Vanderwood…”_

_“Don’t.” She stared out the window, resolutely pointing her gaze away from him._

_He nodded, turned on the car, and drove them home._

They had never spoken of it again. The people they lost, the ones that disappeared when they weren’t looking. After that day they had stopped speculating, they had stopped wishing that they could find traces of them and bring them back into the folds. They worked, they went home, and they didn’t talk about any of the shit in between. She had always wished that she had a way to thank him for that. For knowing what she needed when she couldn’t put the horrible truth to words.

Now he was going to get himself killed for the sake of some scrawny psychopath. He’d ditched all the safety nets they had so carefully established over the years, letting himself get attached to that ridiculous girl. Hadn’t he learned by now that attachments would only tear them apart? It would all go up in flames, the smoke blackening the world as they choked on the reality of what they had lost. There could never be any other ending.

“Agent Vanderwood.” Goldi’s eyes snapped to where she was leaning against the wall, brooding over her stupid partner. _Ex-_ partner.

“Yeah boss?”

“Send our dear 707 a message, and give him these coordinates for a rendezvous point.” She thrust her hand out, a flimsy post-it squashed between her sweaty fingers. “Tell him we’ll take his deal, and make me sound convincingly furious about it. I’ll get the strike team ready, and we’ll take him out as soon as we have the data in hand.”

Vanderwood nodded, turning to leave so that she could get to the communication center and follow her orders. Marching out like a good little soldier; nameless, emotionless, and loyal because the only other option was death. Her steps were brisk, but she felt like she was moving through water, strangely heavy and weightless at once.

So this is what it had come to. A bullet in the brain of a kid who was too stupid to know that his ideals would get him killed. She would be hunting him down even after he had done her the kindness of turning away while she had fallen apart. Hunting someone that she had considered a friend despite knowing it was dangerous to feel that way. Murdering him because he had found something that he wanted to live for. The irony was cold, a rusted sword sticking in her gut. There weren’t many kind people in the world, and now there would be one less.

_Dammit, 707, why didn_ _’t you just run?_


	45. Saturn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they arrive at the secret hideout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I apparently had more feelings about dear Vanderwood than I anticipated. So...yeah, things are happening with that now. WHOOPS. 
> 
> On another note, there is THE MOST AMAZING ART at the bottom of this chapter. THE ARTIST IS PERFECT AND GOOD AND WONDERFUL AND THE MOST CHARMING PERSON EVER. She is username starkind on AO3, and her tumblr is: http://justaverysmallplant.tumblr.com/
> 
> PLEASE GO SHOWER HER WITH LOVE. 
> 
> AND THEN JUST LOOK AT THE PICTURE OMG OMG OMG. IT'S SO AMAZING. I am in complete awe of her. She's drawn a couple things for this story, but I'm saving the others for some different chapters. ;) Although you can see some of it on her tumblr if you are so inclined. Go follow her!!! TELL HER HOW GREAT SHE IS. 
> 
> Today is officially in her honor, please celebrate her awesomeness forever.

He had dreamed of doing this after he had met her. After he had told her about his cars and she hadn’t even thought to make fun of his strange attachment to them. He had wondered what it would be like to drive through the mountains, the passenger’s seat finally occupied, the most beautiful girl in the world at his side. Back then he had never thought that it was possible. Depression had consumed him, and he couldn’t imagine a world where he could even hope to have her, and especially not a world where she might want to have him back. Yet there they were, the grey sky casting watery shadows at them over the forested peaks, the highway flying by. Not only was she there, and not only was she gorgeous, but she loved him. _Him._ Of all the people in the world that she could have chosen, she had settled for him.

He wanted to enjoy it as much as he could, but as the minutes drew into hours he couldn’t help but remember the circumstances around their outing, and it was beginning to get to him. Saeran. He was out there, in the hands of the most dangerous people that Saeyoung could think of. Was he still mad? Would he be sad that the knife wound hadn’t killed him, after all? He was afraid that the agency would ignore his message. Or worse, that it had come far too late. Then he would be able to offer Nicky even less than he could now, because his quest for vengeance would be all consuming. There were a lot of dark futures looming on their horizon, and the chance to find the light was so slim.

He jumped when warmth brushed the side of his face, her fingers wrapping around his earlobe to tug it gently. “You okay, love?”

_Love._ True, and real, and vivid. It would be a nightmare if Saeran hated him forever, a nightmare if he were already gone, but that just couldn't be the case. The world couldn’t be a nightmare if a girl like her could love him.

“Yes, I’m great.” He watched the signs flit by as he drove around the bend, and he spotted the one he had been waiting for, the one with the bullet hole punched right through the middle. _“Did you just shoot the sign?” “I needed to put a hole in something. Better the sign than my own head.” “Never that. He’d hate it. Swear to me, never that.” “…Fine.”_ He slowed, almost to a stop, and rolled forward until he spotted the concealed pathway at the edge of the highway, tucked between two massive pines. He pulled up to it, letting the car idle as he looked over at her, still in those ridiculous glasses. “I have good news.”

“Opera is considered cool again?” her eyebrows rose over the rims of the shades, her smile triumphant at her own joke. She was the biggest dork, and she was perfect.

He couldn’t stop himself from teasing her, couldn’t resist the chance to make her laugh. “Yes, the aliens have zapped this news into my skull as we speak. Opera is the only form of acceptable music, and they have immediately offered you a ten-million-cubit contract to begin singing to the masses in space.”

“Oh, well, then tell them to beam me up.” She lifted her head, as though waiting for light to fall from above and transport her to the skies.

“What?” he placed his hand on his heart, feigning a scandalized expression. “And just leave me behind?” he had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing as she rounded on him, rolling her eyes.

“No, of course not. _Clearly_ I would be coming right back for you after I secured our apartment on the space station.”

“Space station? No, no, no.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “That’s where all the untalented people live. You have to go for a house on Saturn. I hear the rings make the most beautiful views in the early morning.”

“Good point. I would want a place that has nice views. Oh!” she gasped, sitting up straighter in her seat. “But really, can you even imagine how gorgeous a meteor shower would be passing through the rings? I bet it would be amazing.”

He couldn’t suppress his laugh this time, the expression on her face too honest to be anything but sincere. “You really would like to see that, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t you think it would beautiful?” She took off her sunglasses, resting her head against the seat as she looked at him.

“It would.” He nodded. It was strange, but imagining the impossible didn’t seem so outlandish when he was doing it with her. “Maybe someday I can take you to a space station for real, and we could go see it.”

She sighed, a bemused smile crossing her lips. “’To the ends of the stars and then beyond, they saw the universe hand in hand, and the galaxies were filled with the light of endless love.’”

“That was poetic.”

“It’s from one of my favorite books. A couple of space travelers cross paths on an unlikely planet, and they fall in love as they save the universe from impending doom. That line is the last line in the book, and I’ve always thought it was the most romantic thing ever written.”

He imagined what it would be like to traverse the stars, her hand in his. She would outshine them all. “Happily ever after, but in space? I like it.”

She laughed, blushing. “I’m sorry, didn’t you say you had good news? I didn’t mean to ramble on about the rings of Saturn.”

“Oh! You completely distracted me.” He sighed. “It’s not as exciting as going to a space station.”

“Try me.”

“Well, I was going to say ‘we’re almost there’, but now it just seems anticlimactic.”

She leaned over, touching the end of her finger against the tip of his nose. “Nonsense, that’s excellent news! I’ve enjoyed the trip, but I am definitely ready to get out of the car.”

“Then I won’t waste any more time. To Saturn!” He popped the car into gear and started driving forward, passing beneath the heavy tree branches and onto the little dirt road. The sky turned another shade darker, and a moment later the rain started to fall, pellets of water drizzling onto the roof of the car like a drum roll. She tilted her head to look up at the treetops through the window, thick pine needles from the evergreens mingling with the orange and red leaves of the autumn-clad oaks. She hummed a cheerful tune to herself as they made their way through the wooded path. It felt a bit like passing through a fantasy book, like they would emerge on the other side of the forest to see knights and dragons cavorting through the skies.

Part of him wished that were the case. Then he could become her hero, and leave the dangers of their current world behind. Dragons sounded much more appealing than spy networks and cults. If books were to be believed, dragons could become your faithful companions, with enough charm and perseverance. The only thing spy networks ever did for anyone was get them shot in the back. If they were lucky.

The road took a sharp turn to the right, and as he maneuvered the car around it the trees thinned and he could see the small cabin at the end of the drive. Water ran in streams off the pointed roof, cascading over the edges of the grey wooden beams used to make the structure. The porch was still in good shape, and the shutters on the windows remained closed, so there was a good chance it was still livable inside. It had been a long time since he had been here, but it didn’t look as though any time had passed at all. He half expected Vanderwood to open the door and wave, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes at him. He’d make a joke; she’d smirk and pretend she didn’t find it funny. The rhythm of their friendship was ironclad. Although last time they had been here she hadn’t been smirking, and he hadn’t been making any jokes.

He rolled up to the front of the porch and put the car in park, cutting off the ignition. It felt like the rain was seeping into his mood, dampening his humor so that he couldn’t remember why he had been hopeful anymore. He looked at the cabin and felt as though it remembered him, and it whispered of his failures long ago. He had never been able to save them, not one. Why would he expect that trend to shift now?

“It’s going to be alright.”

He snapped out of his thoughts, emerging from the gloom like a drowning man, drawn to the music in her voice. “What? How did you know…”

“You were worried we would fail?”

“Worried _I_ would fail.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted so that she was sitting on the edge of her seat, reaching over to wind her fingers through his hair, pulling it out of his eyes. “You get this look on your face when you’re putting too much on your shoulders. Like you’re trying to fit all the darkness in yourself, so that nobody else has to see it.”

“Guess I’m not very good at it, if you noticed all that.”

“Maybe I’m just paying extra attention.” She leaned across the gap between them, pressing her hands against his chest for leverage as she planted a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You’re not alone. I’m here with you, and we’ll get through this together.”

He desperately wanted to believe her, but ever since he had received that email informing him of Saeran’s abduction, a crushing pit of fear had been growing in his stomach. It was one thing to make lofty promises full of hope when he had thought his brother was in relative safety. It was one thing to set out on this adventure when he had thought the agency was not yet on the list of things that they needed to deal with. He was scared. Scared of what could happen to Saeran, scared of what could happen to her. He was dragging her into the most dangerous situation that he could think of, and the worst part was that he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. He _should._ If he were stronger he could have asked her to wait, to stay with Jumin or Zen until he returned. Then if something had happened she would have been with friends. She would have been okay.

Although he couldn’t imagine doing any of this without her strength to guide him through, so it seemed he was at a loss either way.

“Come on, my space princess, lets get inside before the rain washes us away.”

She beamed at him, sliding back over to her side of the car and popping her door open. He followed suit, and they rushed around to the trunk to pull their things out. The rain was barely more than a drizzle, but it was cold, and he knew that both of them wanted to be inside where they could take a moment to relax. They had messages to wait for, and friends to update, but for the moment all he wanted to do was find the bed and collapse into it.

They carried their things up to the porch, Nicky somewhat breathless from the run up the last stretch of hill to the door. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked across the creaking floorboards to the corner, where they had left the plant behind. He lifted the small grey flowerpot from its place to reveal the key underneath, water dribbling over the rim of the container as he moved it. He held the chipped clay in his hands for a moment, staring at the flower wilting in the soil. It had been blooming at one point, and neither of them had been back to see it.

_“You’re daft. Why would you plant a flower, of all things?” she shook her head at him, letting him sidle up closer to her. Seven pretended not to notice. It was the best way he had to give them privacy._

_“‘Daft’. Who the hell says ‘daft’ anymore? What are you, British?”_

_“Yeah, I’m British royalty. Mary Vanderwood the 3rd, her royal fucking highness.”_

_“Oi, Seven! We have royalty here.” Klein raced over, wrapping his arm around Seven’s shoulders. “Should we bow? Pledge our swords to her name?” Vanderwood crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes as she cocked her hip to the side._

_“If you emptied that flower pot she could use it as a crown.” He grinned as Klein stepped away, scandalized, clutching his hands over his heart. He loved it when he could weasel that expression out of his dramatic teammate. It always felt like victory._

_“No!” Klein pretended to feint, falling backwards into Vanderwood’s arms. She caught him, then shoved him off in the other direction, sighing as though she was being pushed to the ends of her limits, even though she was smiling as wide as she could._

_Seven laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets, his fingers brushing against the gun strapped to his side. He tried not to notice it, like he always did._ _“What’s your deal with plants, man?” Klein always planted something, at all the hideouts they crashed at. He carried seeds in his pocket for just such an occasion. It wasn’t like they ever got to go back to visit, so Seven never knew why he bothered._

_“It’s something to leave behind. Something that the rain can’t wash away. Something that can thrive in the sunlight, even after I’m gone.”_

_Vanderwood scowled, slapping the back of his head._ _“Don’t be fucking morbid.”_

_“Hey, we all gotta go sometime!” Klein wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, and Seven averted his eyes as she blushed. “You know as well as I do that this life is cruelly short, babe. Most people get to exist in that time, but not us. We live in the spaces between everyone else, invisible. But if this little seed becomes a flower? Well, then there’s proof that I was here.”_

_“That’s stupid.” Vanderwood laughed at him, shaking her head. “Nobody will even know it was you.”_

_Klein shrugged, holding her tighter._ _“Somebody might.”_

His fingers shook around the edge of the pot, and he struggled to push the memories out of his head. He set it down on the railing, then adjusted it so it was in a spot where it might get more water and sunlight. He picked up the key and returned to the door, reminding himself that he couldn’t change the past, or the people they lost, and there was no use dwelling on it now. He unlocked it and Nicky strolled in first, dumping her luggage in the center of the room without ceremony. It was dark, the grey sky offering little light beyond the threshold of the door, but he could still make out the faint outlines of the furniture. There was a massive bed pushed against the back wall, a fireplace on the east side of the room, and a couch with two matching chairs plopped in the center. There was also a small kitchen in the west corner, and a single door along the wall led to the only bathroom with the world’s most miserable standing shower. It was tiny, but it would be easy to keep warm, and nobody knew about it except for the handful of people from the agency that he had stayed there with. At least half of those people were dead now, so they weren’t going to rat them out.

Nicky put her hands on her hips, titling her head up to look at the shadowed ceiling. “I always thought Saturn would be bigger.”

He laughed, setting his bag down and walking to stand next to her. “Sorry, it’s not much, but it should be safe.”

She slid her arms around him, pulling him against her. “I wasn’t complaining. Besides, if it _were_ Saturn, the lack of air would be uncomfortable, no?”

“Very true.” He was leaning down to kiss her when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he ended up sighing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers. He fished the device out of his pocket, and Vanderwood’s face stared up at him, as though summoned by the disturbance of their old hideout.

He hit the button to answer the call, forcing himself to be bright and cheerful. “Hellooooo!”

“Boy, you sure know how to piss people off.” She was trying to sound bored, but he had heard her stressed enough times to pick out the subtle tension behind each syllable. 

“What can I say? It’s a gift. I take it you got my message? How’d Goldi take it?”

“Livid. She threatened several different kinds of death before agreeing to your terms. You’re lucky we haven’t already sent people after you.”

Which of course meant that they had, but hadn’t found him before they got his message.

“Lucky 707, that’s me.” His voice wasn’t light anymore, the dance to their conversation already growing tiresome. He wished that he could cut through the bullshit and say what mattered, but he knew it would mean her death. There was no chance in hell that this call wasn’t being recorded and listened to by at least eight other people.

“You should thank your lucky stars that I don’t put a bullet in your head myself. I owe you for this fucking bruise, you little shit.” Her words were weighed down by the truth hidden beneath them. She was speaking in code, but it was a code he knew well. He had worked with her long enough to know what she said without saying it. So, she was being ordered to kill him. He could have figured that out for himself, but what he couldn’t understand is why she would warn him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had something I needed to take care of.”

“Hope it was important.” This time she wasn’t speaking in code. She was being honest, brutally so, and he was filled with guilt for taking off on her as the hurt bled through her voice.

 “It always is. How’s my brother?”

“Alive. Goldi’s taken a real shine to him. How’s our data?”

His stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. Anything Goldilocks found shiny usually ended up dead, or much, much worse. “Secure. For now.”

“Yeah, yeah. To the fucking point. Your being emailed the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Be there tomorrow at noon. You bring the data; we’ll bring the kid. You fuck up, he dies. We fuck up, you send the signal. We all know the goddamn drill.”

So, that was it. That was all the time they had, and that was all the hints he was getting. He wanted to send her a signal, to scream into the air until she heard his many, many apologies. _Sorry I hurt you. Sorry I had to leave. Sorry you_ _’re stuck there. Sorry that you were stuck with me when it could have been him._

“Right, see you then, Vanderwood. Maybe I’ll bring you some flowers, to make up for things.”

The long stretch of silence on the other end of the line let him know that she had gotten his point. “Fuck you.” She hung up on him, and he let the phone drop from his ear, taking a deep breath.

Nicky rested her head against his chest, her cheek warm where it hovered over his heart. He closed his eyes and focused on it, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “I take it you heard all of that?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded small. She felt small as he held her. The whole world was inside her heart, yet he could handily place his chin on top her head when they stood next to each other. She was tiny while the danger was massive, looming over them like the storm brewing in the sky. “Noon tomorrow?”

“Noon tomorrow.” He tried to imagine what it would be like when it was all over. What it would be like to look forward to the days ahead and know that they had put his past behind them. For a moment he couldn’t. He had lived so long thinking only of the past, never moving any further onward than the time he occupied in the present. What was the future to a man that didn’t exist? He had never let himself think of such things. Anything he had imagined would have been taken from him eventually, anyways.

Then Nicky tilted her head, looking up at him with eyes that contained so much more than the light of the moment. He had never needed a future before, until she had found him. As he gazed at her soft smile he could imagine something that felt like forever. Nights curled up together, looking at the stars. Flowers in her hair as she walked down the aisle and into his trembling arms. A house at the edge of town, with a big yard and a swing built into an old oak tree. Two lazy cats, one named after Zen just to make him angry. _Kids_.

It was painful. It was agonizing to picture these things, because they were so close, and yet so far away. If he imagined them too fervently then they could become too real, and then they might be taken from him. Taken like his childhood, taken like his brother, taken like Rika and V. He had lost so much, but this fragile future that didn’t yet exist was something he had to hold on to, because to lose it would be unbearable.

The spark of hope ignited in his heart, and he remembered why he had come back to her, and why he was here in her arms now. He had promised to fight. To fight for a future worthy of her, a future better than he had thought possible. To fight for Saeran and his freedom. He was afraid, he was so very afraid, but amidst all his doubt and terror there was one thing that was still certain: if he couldn’t remember to hope, then everything was already lost.

He tilted his head down, and this time there was no interruption before he kissed her, savoring the way she tasted on his tongue. He pulled back, her cheeks rosy, and it took a great deal of his strength to keep himself from diving back in and losing himself in her sighs.

“We should probably let everyone know we arrived safely, and give them those updates you promised.” She smirked, and he grinned in turn.

“Can I trust you to take care of that? I need to get something ready.” He wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and never come back out again, but if he was going to fight for this theoretical future then there were things that needed to be taken care of. Things that he needed to show her before noon tomorrow, to make sure she was ready for what could be coming. What _would_ be coming, if Vanderwood’s warnings were any indication. It was an obvious trap that they were walking into. There was a plan forming in the back of his head, a way to set things right and get them out of this alive, but it would still be fraught with danger. So, as much as he didn’t want to, he would need to make sure Nicky was as prepared as she could get in the next twenty hours.

“Of course. I’ll send them your love.” She wound her way out of his arms and headed towards the couch, pulling out her phone, already opening the RFA app. He watched her, letting his gaze linger on the sway of her hips, on the curve of her shoulders, on the bounce in her step.

He sighed, tightening his jacket around his shoulders and heading towards the door. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips and blew him a kiss as she flopped on the couch. “I’ll be waiting.”

He walked out into the freezing drizzle, but he didn’t feel the cold. The fact that she would be waiting, that she would always be waiting for him, would keep him warm for the rest of his life.

 


	46. You Should Have Just Gotten me the Fedora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky doesn't play fair and Saeyoung gives Zen a heart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, I've actually had food poisoning all week and then yesterday came down with a nasty cold, so I really hope this came out making sense because I have no idea anymore. 
> 
> Also additional art will be coming soon because starkind is FAR TOO GOOD TO ME. So look forward to that in the upcoming chapters. :3

She watched him walk out the door, chewing on her lower lip as her smile gradually faded into the frown that it wanted to be. He was worried, and she knew it. _She_ was worried. She was a musician, a performer of mediocre quality who had spent her life indoors focusing on studies and the imaginary worlds of books and games. Nothing she had ever done had prepared her for a race to save her love’s estranged brother from the clutches of an evil spy organization.

She was so afraid that she would be the reason they failed.

Saeyoung was trained, and he had lived in this world. As much as it made her sad to think of the time he must have spent believing he would always be alone, at least it had given him the fortitude to survive this hurtle looming ahead of them. She didn’t have that, and she was terrified that it would make her a liability. That she would do something stupid, like she always did, and get all of them killed.

She couldn’t leave him, though. She couldn’t ask him to face this alone, and she couldn’t bring herself to walk away and promise to wait while he threw himself into the fire. This was the life she was choosing, because this was the man that she was choosing, and there was no room for doubt and hesitation. She had to be strong for him, better for him. She had to be capable of standing by his side and taking his hand when the world seemed stacked against them. She would do anything for him, and if that meant risking her life over the terror that she felt, then she would throw her shoulders back and find a way to keep her head up. For him, for Saeran, and once they returned, for the rest of the RFA.

She sighed, logging into the chatroom and praying for distraction.

****

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: NICKY**

**Yoosung: NICKY OMG YOU** **’RE HERE**

**Yoosung: I LOVE YOU**

**Nicolette: haha hello Yoosung! How was the party? :3**

**Jumin: We** **’ve just seen off the last of the guests and are supervising the cleanup.**

**Yoosung: THANK YOU VERY MUCH**

**Yoosung: I HAVE A DATE TOMORROW**

**ZEN: Please stop typing in all caps -_-**

She couldn’t help but laugh, her smile breaking through her worries as she saw his excitement. So they had gotten her “gifts” after all. Well, Yoosung had, at least.

**Jaehee: We all owe you a great deal of thanks, it seems.**

**Nicolette: ZEN! Did you come through?**

**Yoosung: He made out with Jaehee in the corner.**

**Nicolette: !!!!**

**Jaehee: YOOSUNG!!!**

**ZEN: Well, does that answer your question miss meddling party planner?**

**ZEN: >.> geez, you guys are embarrassing me**

**Yoosung: Dude, get a room next time.**

**Nicolette: OMG That makes me so happy!!!!**

**Jaehee: ^^;**

**Jumin: It makes me feel disturbed.**

**ZEN: You were already disturbed.**

**Jumin: I hear therapy helps with that. There** **’s no help for you, though.**

**ZEN: I DON** **’T NEED HELP**

**Nicolette: Jumin, you spoke with Ash?**

**Jumin: Yes. It was strangely helpful. Thank you.**

**Nicolette: Oh thank god, I was so worried she was going to make you hate me.**

**Jumin: Not at all. She helped me see how to improve things with my father, so I am very grateful to her.**

**Jumin: To you, as well. For** **…everything.**

**Yoosung: SO GRATEFUL.**

**Nicolette: haha I take it you got along well with Anna?**

**Yoosung: ~~WE** **’RE GOING ON A DATE~~**

**ZEN: For the love of god stop it with the capslock**

**Yoosung: Sorry, I** **’m very excited. We’re also going to play LOLOL tonight.**

**Yoosung: T_T She said she** **’d show me her techniques**

**Nicolette: Good!!! I** **’m glad you two had fun.~**

**ZEN: Your meddling payed off.**

**Nicolette: ^^**

**Jaehee: Will Saeyoung be joining us?**

**Nicolette: No, he has something that he has to take care of, so he asked me to check in and give you guys an update.**

**Jumin: How are things? No trouble, I hope?**

She sighed, things moving away from the joy of the party that she had missed and back to the reality of why she had missed it far too quickly. She wished she had better news, and it was so tempting to hide the truth of it from them so that she didn’t dampen the high spirits they shared presently. However, they had promised no secrets, and it was a promise she believed in, so wasn’t about to go back on it now. She sent them a summary of everything that had happened with V’s email and the agency, getting them up to speed on Saeran’s status.

**ZEN: That** **’s terrible.**

**Jaehee: Is Saeyoung okay? I would imagine he** **’s upset.**

**Nicolette: We** **’re getting through it. We’re both worried.**

**Jumin: Is there anything that we can do?**

**Nicolette: No, I don** **’t think so. Right now we just have to be ready for the meeting tomorrow.**

**Jumin: I could send people to the coordinates, provide you with security.**

**ZEN: That** **’s not a bad idea, it smells like a trap.**

**Nicolette: I can bring it up to Saeyoung, but** **…**

**Nicolette: I** **’m pretty sure that if we did that we would risk Saeran’s safety.**

**Jaehee: That is a good point. In films, when the adversaries detect reinforcements, they always try to kill the hostages.**

**ZEN: I can** **’t believe we are talking about a situation like that for Saeyoung and Nicky T_T**

**Yoosung: Are you scared, Nicky?**

**Nicolette:** **…**

**Nicolette: Yes. But I** **’m trying to be strong.**

**Jumin: You should not have to be.**

**Jumin: It is frustrating that we didn** **’t know about things sooner.**

**Jumin: We could have helped, or prevented this.**

**Jumin: I can** **’t bear sitting and waiting.**

**Nicolette: I know, I know >.> I wish I had better answers.**

**Yoosung: It** **’s not your fault. It’s V’s.**

**ZEN: Gah! Don** **’t talk about him now, I’ll just get angry.**

**ZEN: I can** **’t believe that the person that I owe so much to is the same person that would have done all that to Saeyoung.**

**Jumin: We agree on something again.**

**ZEN: I** **’m okay with it this time.**

**Jaehee: Are you saying that you don** **’t believe Saeyoung all of the sudden?**

**ZEN: No! Definitely not that! I trust Saeyoung.**

**ZEN: I just feel like there** **’s something we’re missing.**

**ZEN: V was quiet, and secretive, but he never seemed** **…evil.**

**Yoosung: He changed after Rika died.**

**Jumin: This is true. I thought that he was in mourning, but perhaps it was something more.**

**Jaehee: Perhaps he couldn** **’t handle her loss.**

**ZEN: Maybe** **…**

She tapped the edge of her phone, wishing that there was something she could say to make them feel better. No matter what they thought of V now, eleven days ago they had all considered him a valued friend. That kind of loss wasn’t easy to handle, no matter the circumstances. She regretted that her arrival had brought on such tumultuous revelations, but she could never bring herself to regret having met them. She only wished she knew how to ease their pain.

The door to the cabin opened and Saeyoung walked in, his hair coated in hundreds of glittering drops of water from the misting rain still drifting from the clouds outside. His glasses were covered in them, as well, and he took them off and cleaned them as he shut the door and walked over to the couch to stand behind it. When he placed the glasses back on his face he looked down at her, and there was a second before his warm smile where she could see the shadows, the ones that ate away at him, the ones that seeped out of the scars left by his past. It was gone the moment he grinned, but she knew that they were still there. She knew that she still had to help him fight them.

“How’s everyone doing?” He leaned forward, looking at the chatroom as Yoosung railed against V.

“Well, upset, now that I broke the news about Saeran. On the bright side, the party seemed to be a smashing success.” She tilted her head onto the back of the couch, so that she could look up into his eyes. She loved the color in them, like sunlight filtered through yellow stained glass, bright without being blinding, warm without being scorching. 

“Did they get your ‘surprises’?” he slid his arms over the couch and placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs tracing little circles on the ridges of her sweater.

She giggled, still gleeful that everything had worked. “Yep. Zen and Jaehee made out in the corner, Yoosung has a date, and Jumin seems to be doing better after talking to my therapist.”

He blinked. “Wait, back up a lot of steps…Zen and Jaehee? What?!”

“Yoosung said they made out in the corner.” She tucked her feet underneath her legs, preening at her accomplishment.

“How did that happen?”

She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. “Before everything happened with the apartment, Zen used to tease me about having a crush on you. He kept pestering me to ask you out, and I told him that if I did he would have to agree to ask out Jaehee in return.”

He put his hands on the back of the couch again and used it as leverage to vault over, bouncing on the cushions next to her. She had about a second to prepare before he engulfed her in his arms, showering her cheeks with kisses.

“You had a crush on me?”

She laughed, adjusting so that she could lay against his chest, her back in his lap. “It wasn’t obvious?”

“I thought I was the one that had the crush on _you,_ actually.” He brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Well, ‘crush’ might be an understatement.”

“I think we can safely say it’s mutual.” He blushed, and she blushed in turn, and the world drifted away as they looked at each other.

“So Jaehee and Zen, huh? I never would have seen that coming.” He shook his head. “What was it you said about Yoosung? You got him a date?”

“No, he got himself a date. I just…invited a guest to the party that I thought he might get along with.”

“And then also sent your therapist to talk to Jumin. Sneaky. Very sneaky.” He tilted his head towards the phone still in her hands. “You should probably tell them goodbye before they pop a gasket thinking you disappeared again.”

“Oh, shit!” she lifted the screen to see that he was right, they were already starting the parade of capital letters.

**Yoosung: Did something happen, you think??? Should we try to call?**

**Jumin: Saeyoung probably came back.**

**ZEN: oh for heaven** **’s sake…NICKY, AT LEAST LOG OUT BEFORE YOU START BEING GROSS.**

**Nicolette: Sorry! ^^ Got distracted.**

**ZEN: Yeah. I** **’ll bet.**

**ZEN: Maybe I should call again** **…**

**Nicolette: So, how about those fedoras, eh?**

**ZEN: FINE.**

Saeyoung chuckled, reading over her shoulder. The he surprised her by reaching across and plucking the phone out of her hands.

“What are you doing?”

The glint in his eyes was full of mischief and the promise of mayhem. “You’ll see.”

She tried to sit up and look at the screen, but he tilted the phone away, breathing out a silent laugh. Well, if he wasn’t going to play fair then she wouldn’t either. She swiveled to face him instead of the phone, placing her palms flat against his chest and leaning forward. She pressed her lips to the base of his jaw and then trailed kisses upward, until she reached his ear and nibbled at his lobe. He shivered, his muscles growing tense, and so she worked her lips back down his jaw, then lower, until she finally sucked on the soft patch of skin where his pulse was thrumming like the wings of a humming bird. He groaned, his head falling back slightly, but she could tell he was still typing, his fingers moving more frantically by the second. She slid her hands up and around the back of his head, dragging her nails through his hair, still damp from the rain, and the noise he made caused her heart to skip a beat.

“There. Done.” He ground out the words beneath a low growl, tossing the phone onto the cushions and pouncing on her, flipping them in one fluid motion so that he had her pressed into the couch. His lips found hers and she had to tilt her head up to follow the fervor of the kiss, her breath catching in the back of her throat as his hips moved forward. She forgot who she was, she forgot where she was. She forgot everything beyond the rushing heat filling her veins, the pounding beat building in the back of her head, erasing everything except his lips and his hands and his hips.

They were both gasping for air when he drew back, their eyes closed as he rested his forehead against hers. The world around her faded back into existence with each slowing beat of her hear, and she realized that she was clinging to him as though if she let go they would both drift away, never to be seen again. She relaxed her arms, moving them from around his back so that her hands were on his shoulders.

He let out a noise of frustration, placing his hands on either side of her head so he could sit up, looking down at her with half-lidded eyes. “The things you do to me…the way you make me feel…” he didn’t finish the thought, but stared at her like he was the black of night and she were a comet across the sky. She felt like she glowed when he looked at her like that, and she couldn’t speak to tell him how much she loved him for it because he had taken all her breath away. He sighed, heavy and full of disappointment, moving off her so that he was seated at the other end of the couch. “There’s something we need to do before it gets too dark.”

She sat up, feeling her hair bunch around her head at odd angles. Her heartbeat was almost back to its normal pace, and she willed it to slow even further, bringing herself back to reality and the things that they needed to prepare for. “Of course.” She smirked, running her fingers through her hair even though she knew it was hopeless. “Do I get to see what you did with my phone first?”

He burst out into a roaring laugh as the blush started to fade from his cheeks. He had to search around for it, but he eventually located her phone and tossed it back to her. He stood, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, grinning as though he had just been declared king of all the Buddha Chips.

“Enjoy. Meet me outside as soon as you’re done, and tell everyone I said goodbye.” He turned and all but skipped out of the room. She turned her phone back on and flipped open the app as quickly as she could manage. She had to scroll up through a great deal of capital letters that seemed to be coming primarily from Zen before she finally found it.

**Nicolette: Oh no, Zen, Saeyoung is giving me a strange look.**

**Nicolette: What does it mean if his eyes seem to be** **…smoldering?**

**ZEN: What?! Now?!**

**Nicolette: His breathing is getting heavy**

**Nicolette: like**

**Nicolette: almost like**

**Nicolette: he** **’s panting**

**ZEN: What are you doing? What are you talking about?**

**Nicolette: Oh, no, Zen!!**

**Nicolette: He** **’s getting closer!**

**Nicolette: He** **’s reaching out with his hands!!**

**ZEN: Stop it.**

**Yoosung: lololol** **…?**

**Nicolette: Zen!**

**Nicolette: Why is my heart pounding like this?**

**ZEN: YOU DON** **’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING YOU DON’T WANT TO**

**ZEN: I** **’LL COME GET YOU, WHEREVER YOU ARE**

**Nicolette: I, an innocent girl, need to be rescued!!!**

**Nicolette: Zen! He** **’s kissing me! Zen, please come save me!**

**Nicolette: My pure, innocent heart cannot take another moment!**

**ZEN: WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?**

**Nicolette: Please, Zen, you** **’re so handsome and brave!**

**Jumin: lol**

**Nicolette: Please come be my knight in shining armor, and save me from this ruffian!**

**Jaehee: -_-**

**Nicolette: Oh no, hurry, before it** **’s too late!**

**ZEN: THIS IS WORSE. YOU SHOULD HAVE JUST GOTTEN ME THE FEDORA.**

**Nicolette: btw this is Saeyoung ;) k bai**

**ZEN: WHAT?!**

**ZEN: DAMMIT SAEYOUNG**

**Jumin: This is what you get for policing people** **’s promiscuity.**

**ZEN: YOU CAN** **’T TELL ME THAT WASN’T DISTURBING TO THE REST OF YOU**

**ZEN: NICKY**

**ZEN: WHY T_T**

**Yoosung: lolololol they didn** **’t even say anything stop freaking out**

She burst into laughter, dissolving into a fit of giggles so strong that she had to hold her sides for fear that they would split apart. She had to kick her feet to dispel some of the giddiness before she could calm herself enough to reply.

**Nicolette: Hey Zen. It** **’s** ** actually ** **me this time.**

**Nicolette: Serves you right :p**

**ZEN: >.<**

**Yoosung: LOL**

**Nicolette: <3**

**Nicolette: Anyways, I have to go, we have some things to take care of. I** **’ll check in again when I can.**

**Nicolette: Saeyoung says goodbye, too!**

**Jumin: Take care. Please make sure you get some rest.**

**Yoosung: Bye! AND THANK YOU AGAIN FOR EVERYTHING.**

**Jaehee: Stay safe. Please stay safe.**

**ZEN: Nicky?**

**Nicolette: Yeah, shiny brother?**

**ZEN: Stay happy, too.**

She smiled wide as she logged out of the app, clicking the button on her phone to put it back to sleep. She stuffed it in her pocket as she stood up and stretched, grabbing her jacket and throwing it over her shoulders. She headed to the door, pulling it open to see Saeyoung standing across the yard a few feet from an old, half crumbled fence. The rain had stopped, but he was still hunched in his coat, eyes on the ground. She shut the door behind her and picked up her feet, stepping into a solid jog.

As she ran to him, she decided that she wanted to give him whatever it took to get through this. Jokes, kisses, halted sighs between their lips. She would give him tears if he asked, or smiles, or she would stand there and accept each of them from him in turn. She would support him when he could not stand, and she would allow him to crumble whenever he needed. She wasn’t the strongest person in the world, and she had never been in a situation like this, but she loved him, and was willing to fight for him with everything she had.

Whatever was waiting in the days to come, Nicky would be ready with open arms and a full heart.


	47. I’ll Protect us Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we discover Nicky would make a terrible spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I have more lovely art to post with the next chapter, so BE HYPED. 
> 
> AND PLEASE CONTINUE TO LAVISH LOVE AND ATTENTION ON starkind. SHE IS THE BEST.
> 
> (her art tumblr, btw: http://celeste-draws.tumblr.com/ )

He shuffled his feet, scuffing the toe of his sneaker in the mud, watching the wet dirt slosh around the small hole he made. The rain had stopped, but the air still felt wet and foggy, clinging to his skin and making him wish he could run back inside, slough off his clothes, and scour off a layer of flesh in the shower. Instead he stood in front of the tin can sentinels that he had placed on the fence posts, kicking at the ground as they silently judged him for all his failed decisions. He really, really didn’t want to do this.

He gasped in surprise and stumbled forward as she barreled into him from behind, arms wrapping around him just above the spot where his stitches started. “Hey! Hello!” he laughed as she held him close, gripping him like she was afraid he would disappear.

“I think you gave Zen a heart attack.” She mumbled the words into his back before she released her grip so he could swivel to face her, looking down into eyes brighter than the first crest of dawn light. Most people’s eyes would reflect the grey of the sky, but hers still seemed to find the light hiding behind the gloom.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m just mad you thought of it first.” She draped her arms around his neck, leaning into him. “So, what was it you needed to show me?”

He averted his eyes, looking at the ground and clenching his jaw. She was so bright, and this could only bring darkness. This could only bring pain. He knew it, and yet it had to be done. This was the future he had to offer her, one of running and danger, life and death held in the swaying balance of a rusted scale. They were fighting for more, fighting for better, but they still had to _fight_ , and no matter how he looked at it he knew the awful truth. Battles, big or small, physical or mental, always left scars.

“Listen, there’s about a million things that could go wrong tomorrow, and I want to make sure you’re as prepared as you can be.” He forced himself to look at her, forced himself to see the happiness fade from her expression as she listened to his serious tone, the corners of her lips twitching into a frown even though she was trying to hold the smile. “I had hoped I would be able to take a few weeks, to help you train so you would be more prepared…but fate didn’t have that in the cards for us.” He raised his hand and brushed his finger over her cheek, and she turned her head into it, warm against the stinging cold of the autumn air. “Have you ever fired a gun?”

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “Um, no.”

“I figured.” He reaching inside his jacket and pulled out the pistol he had stashed in the pocket, holding it up so that she could see it. She released him and took a step back, recoiling from it as though afraid it would sting. He nodded towards the broken fence, where he had set up a row of Dr. Pepper cans to serve as targets. “Would it be alright if I showed you how? I hope you won’t need to know, but…I don’t want to take any chances.”

She stared at the gun, chewing on her lower lip. He could see her hesitation, could see it in the way her shoulders dipped and trembled, in the way her head lowered and her hair hung on either side of her face. She didn’t want this any more than he did, yet it had to be done.

She clenched her delicate hands into fists, looking up at him with a fierce determination that made him want to hold her and never let her go. “Alright. Yes. Let’s do this.”

He thumbed the safety, and held the gun out using both hands. “When you shoot, I want you to copy this pose. And always use both hands if you can, don’t try to shoot with one hand to be cool. It lowers accuracy and makes the kickback worse to deal with.” She swiveled her hips to match his stance, checking the placement of his feet. “The safety is here, on the side of the gun.” He clicked it back and forth a few times. “Make sure you turn it off before you try to shoot. Then you take a deep breath, aim as you hold it, then shoot as you exhale.” He turned and aimed at one of the soda cans, taking his time for her benefit. He waited a few seconds after getting it in his sight before he pulled the trigger. The pistol was silenced, so the noise wasn’t that loud, but the bullet still made a popping sound that echoed through the clearing as it shot out of the chamber. A fraction of a second later the can on the fence post exploded into a shower of sugary chaos, the shredded aluminum tumbling into the grass below.

Her eyebrows rose towards her hairline. “Nice shot.”

He smiled, but it felt thin and tenuous. He had never liked having a gun, and had never liked knowing how to shoot it. He was supposed to be the computer guy, not the muscle. Still, he had been trained in all the same skills as the other agents, and he had excelled at any task that had been put before him. Taught a hundred different ways to kill, in addition to the millions of ways he’d learned to tear down a security system. He had always been proud of the fact that he had never fired his weapon, up until he had. Even then, it hadn’t made a single fucking difference.

He held the gun out to her. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She nodded, puffing her cheeks out as she lifted it out of his hands, almost dropping it as the full weight transferred to her fingers. “Oh, it’s heavy.”

“It _is_ made of metal.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know, I just…it always looks so light when other people hold them.”

“Nope. Heavy. And it weighs more every time you have to pick it up.” He sighed, wishing he could take the last part back and stuff it back in his stupid mouth. She didn’t need the abstract rambling of his own existential crisis bogging down her lesson. “Sorry, so, here, hold it like this.” He positioned her hands around the handle, lining her index finger up with the trigger. “Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot, because you don’t want it to go off accidentally, especially in the heat of the moment.” She nodded, paying careful attention to where her fingers were resting. He moved her thumb over the safety, and guided it in latching and unlatching it a couple of times. “That’s what the safety feels like. Now, copy my stance, and aim at the Dr. Pepper can on the second fence post.” He wrapped his arms around hers, helping her get into position. “You see the little point at the tip of the gun? That’s the sight. You want to look down towards that and line it up with your target, and when they match you take a breath like I told you, then pull the trigger.” He felt her shiver against him, and he hated himself for showing her this. “Now, be careful when you shoot. I know it was kind of quiet, but the gun still has quite a kickback, so be ready for it. If you aren’t, it can come back up and hit you in the face, so make sure you have a good hold before you fire.” She nodded, and he stepped away, missing her warmth. “Go ahead and try when you’re ready.”

He watched her adjust her stance, watched her hold the gun upright. She squinted down the barrel, lining up the sight with the can. Her finger inched towards the trigger, then back away from it, then back towards it again. She checked the safety, made sure it was off, and then she drew in a long slow breath and fired.

The can remained unmoved, the bullet zooming far and wide from its intended trajectory and into the forest beyond. She frowned, wrinkling her nose. “That wasn’t very good.”

“Try again. Take your time, get used to the way it feels.” He crossed his arms over his chest, watching her do as he asked.

Every shot she took killed him a little more inside. He didn’t want to see this, didn’t want to have the image of her holding a weapon burned into the back of his brain. It was _wrong,_ wholly unnatural. He should have been handing her violins and sheet music, not weapons and death. She was a kind soul who reached for peace in every situation, grasping for the olive branch no matter how dire the circumstances around her. She wasn’t meant for this, which became even more apparent after she had emptied two clips and not so much as stirred the air around the cans, much less actually hit one. With each shot the burden of her miss seemed to weigh heavier on her shoulders, and he hated it all the more.

He shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “No sense of direction or aim. You, my love, would make the worst spy.”

He had meant it as a joke, a touch of brevity to lighten the mood so that he didn’t have to watch her sink further into despair. It had the opposite effect, however, and he saw her face crumble, tears flowing from the edges of her eyes. She lifted the gun, screaming in frustration, and emptied the clip without looking in the general direction of the target. One bullet grazed the bottom of the fence post, but the can remained obstinately whole, as well as the two others that were lined up that hadn’t been needed to serve their target practice duties. Her arms went limp and she sank to the ground, her knees buckling underneath her until she fell into the thick mud, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

He hated this.

He ran to her, kneeling on the ground alongside her and pulling her against him, crushing her and running his fingers through her hair. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t!” she clutched him tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket. “I don’t want to do this; I don’t want to know this…”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to have to teach you these things, either.”

“No! That’s not it!” she sniffed, sitting up to look at him with a red-rimmed gaze. “I don’t want to have to ever hurt anyone, but I will if I have to, to protect you and Saeran. But I’m awful at it, and I’m so scared that…that I’ll ruin everything.”

His heart broke, shattering into a hundred pieces that reflected all the regret and sorrow he felt in this moment. Still, even when faced with the reality of what loving him meant for her, she could only think of what he needed. Her concern wasn’t for her own life, but his, and his brother’s. A brother that could have easily killed her. She forgave him, and she forgave Saeyoung every minute for all his shortcomings, and instead of resentment or critique she offered only love, pure and unwavering, as steady as the stars on an open night.

He placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her gaze until it met his. “You don’t have to be anything different than what you are. You won’t ruin anything. I promise you, I will protect you. No matter what.”

She grabbed his hand, pressing it against her face as tears crept out of her eyes. “Then who’s going to protect you?”

He held her arms and stood her up, pulling them both out of the mud. He pried the gun from her shaking fingers, popping out the clip and reaching into his pocket to grab another before sliding it in place. He held her gaze as he pointed the gun with one hand, pulling the trigger three times without looking at the targets. All three cans erupted from their places, shattered by the bullets that tore through them.

“I’ll protect us both.”

Her eyes were full of raw fear and he hated it. He hated showing her that, he hated that he knew it in the first place. He hated that she could easily look at him like the killer that he was and walk away from him forever. He was not the funny boy behind the computer, he couldn’t be her flawless white knight whose honor raised him above the dirty dealings of their foes. He was used, and his past made him filthy, and the blood on his hands could never be wiped clean. She could see it now, and he knew that she could, it was written in the depths of her wide, pretty eyes as they gaped at him. Now she could see the monster that the world had made him become, the ruined man that the agency had created.

He had let himself sink so low into his own self-loathing that it shocked him when she grabbed his collar and pulled him down for a kiss, her lips urgent as they pressed against his own. He flipped the safety on the gun and dropped it in the grass, sliding his hands around her hips to pull her in tighter. He could taste her tears still drying against her face, the salt of the great wide ocean compacted into little points of light that had spilled from her eyes. She was warm, and solid, and he had given her far too little credit. She knew him, she knew his entire story, and she had stood by his side. She loved him for who he was, and he couldn’t let his lack of belief in himself ruin that by making him think anything different. If everything fell apart tomorrow, one thing would hold completely true: they loved each other, until the end.

She held his face as she drew her lips away, her eyes fluttering open to look into his. “I’m sorry I’m not stronger, but thank you for letting me stay by your side. Thank you for not sending me away.”

 “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I need you…so I’m going to make sure everything is okay for us both tomorrow. Trust me, okay?” he didn’t know if he could make such a promise, but he would do his best to keep it. No matter what came, he would protect her and Saeran above all else. He would fight for that future that he could barely bring himself to imagine because he was so afraid that it might not exist.

“I trust you. I always will.” She took a deep breath, and she seemed to shake of the last of her sadness as she shivered in the cold, glancing down at her pants, which had been soaked by the mud when she had wallowed in her woes over her poor aim. “Can we go inside now? I think I need a shower.”

He kissed her temple, leaning over and pocketing the gun before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her towards the cabin. “C’mon, you can take a shower and I’ll get some dinner started. I can go over the plan while we eat.”

As they walked inside, he glanced at the sky, the clouds fading to a deeper grey as the afternoon took its curtain call.  The stars would be out soon, but they wouldn’t be able to see them. The wind was rushing through the trees, and the thick of the storm would be overhead within a few hours. They wouldn’t be able to see through the gloom, through the boiling darkness that would drop freezing misery onto them. Still, he needed to remember that they were still there. Even when he couldn’t see them, the stars remained. That was what hope was, that was what faith was. It was believing that there was light just beyond his sight, and that if he kept pushing through they would eventually break free and find it.


	48. A Damned Bit of Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot thickens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS. 
> 
> There is additional art at the end of this chapter by the GLORIOUS starkind (http://celeste-draws.tumblr.com/)
> 
> She has drawn Klein. I DON'T EVEN HAVE ENOUGH WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS PICTURE. YOU GUYS. I HAVE SO MANY WORDS AND THEY STILL AREN'T ENOUGH. 
> 
> Please, please, please, if you like the picture leave a comment telling her thank you, because she reads them and loves them. She is the nicest, sweetest person and she has SO MUCH TALENT and she needs to hear everyone tell her so. Seriously, she made this picture based on only a doofus description I sent her. THAT'S SOME HIGH CALIBER TALENT.
> 
> AND KLEIN, MY PRECIOUS SON. LOOK AT HIM. JUST LOOK AT HIM. *cries because I love my own damn character too much*

He scrubbed the towel through his hair, letting the steam from the bathroom follow him out as he walked into the hallway, the trials of the day washed from his skin by the searing heat moments before. Jumin yawned, taking a moment to stretch before making his way into the bedroom and throwing open his closet doors. He pulled out a pair of soft lounging pants and a plain t-shirt, choosing to dress unusually casual, as he had no plans to go out for the remainder of the evening. The party was over, and now all that was left to them was the agonizing waiting game until Nicolette and Saeyoung could return to them, back where they belonged.

His phone chimed as he finished pulling the shirt over his head, his hair skewing in odd directions as parts of it dried in the chilly air in his apartment. He tossed the towel over his shoulder and padded to his night stand, where he had left it to charge. The display informed him that he had a new email waiting in his inbox, so he picked it up and thumbed the unlock slider, tapping the letter icon with its angry red notification symbol glaring at him. He had only the one new message, from a sender that he did not recognize.

**You are Cordially Invited**

His finger hovered over the message as he struggled with the possibilities. Very few people had access to his private email account, and it was strange to receive a message that was not sent by one of them. He did not use it for registering to online sites, nor did he give it out lightly. He could count on his hands how many people had ever known about it, and this sender - Mint Eye - was not among them. He pressed down on the message, opening it to fill the screen, and he was greeted by a strange green logo, in the style of a hieroglyphic eye.

**Jumin Han,**

**You have been selected to attend the birth of paradise. You have been weighed and found worthy, despite your momentary lapse in judgment.**

**I look forward to seeing you at the dawn of peace and prosperity.**

There was no signature on the message, nor any indication of when or where this ceremony was intended to take place. He took a screen shot of the message, but before he could do anything beyond that his phone began ringing, Jaehee’s face replacing the email message as her call came through. He tapped the green button to answer, and held the phone to his ear.

“Yes?”

“Jumin, sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if you had received any strange emails?” she sounded strained, though that was hardly out of the ordinary. Still, the last he had seen of her she was blushing as Zen led her away to dinner, so it did not please him to hear this turn towards the dire in her voice.

“Actually, I have. Just a moment ago. An invitation.”

She sighed. “Yes, we did as well. An invitation to ‘paradise’?”

“Yes, though there is no information aside from that.” He gripped the phone, placing a hand on his hip as he tapped his toe. “Did yours have a logo in it, as well?”

“Yes, both mine and Zen’s were vague invitations with a logo of an eye. The sender says ‘Mint Eye’, do you know what that is?” he heard Zen’s voice, incomprehensible through the distance on the other end as he spoke to Jaehee, and she muffled the receiver before returning to the call. “Yoosung has received one, as well.”

So they had each received a mysterious invitation. “Were yours sent to your private accounts?”

“Yes. I’ve never given that address out.”

“I, as well, have not used mine beyond a few people whom I trust.” At another time in his life he might have dismissed it as a prank, or a glitch in some scammer’s mailing list. After the events of the past week and a half, however, he could not discount any strange occurrence. Not when lives had already been on the line because they had been too willing to accept the easy truth before. “Where are you now?”

“I’m with Zen, at the restaurant. We were just about to leave.”

“Good. Please return somewhere safe. I’m going to send a picture of the email to Saeyoung immediately, but I want everyone on their guard. Until he gives the okay, we shouldn’t take any risks.”

There was a muffled conversation between herself and Zen before her voice came through clear again on the line. “Alright, we’re going to go to Zen’s apartment.”

“Good. Please ask Yoosung to be careful, as well.”

“We will. Please, stay safe yourself. And let us know as soon as you hear from Saeyoung.”

“Thank you, I will. Goodbye.” He clicked the call off and switched to the RFA chat, pulling up a new message with Saeyoung. He sent the picture first, the ominous eye staring at him while he typed his request.

**Jumin: Saeyoung, each of the RFA members has received this message in our personal accounts. Should we be concerned?**

He put his phone back to sleep, setting it down in its charging dock before sinking onto the edge of his bed.

He had been foolish to think that it was over. To think that the completion of a party had signified the end of a dark period in all their lives. They had grown: as friends, as a new family, but the world had continued turning around them, and the dangers that had lurked in the shadows remained, watching and waiting for their chance. Their newfound happiness, their fragile bliss, was a shining bauble that drew in the danger, inching it into the light slowly so that they hadn’t seen it until it breathed at their heels. It was not over. Not by far, and it had been silly to think that the forces that threatened Nicolette and Saeyoung would not also seek to threaten those they were closest to.

He hoped that the email was innocuous, that it had nothing to do with the ill tidings that draped across the links in the chains that bound them together. He hoped, but his hopes did not soar high, and the fear loomed large and luminous behind them, driving him back into the arms of despair.

***

It was a miserable night. Vanderwood sat beneath the awning of the building, cigarette perched between her lips, and watched the rain pelt the ground, punishing it with the tears of the grey-clad, weeping angels above. The wind gusted across her face, making the embers and ash sputter in front of her nose, but the burn held steady. She hadn’t smoked in ages, but she was making an exception on this fine evening. She was stressed about the next day, specifically noon on the next day, and she would take any aid to ease the pressure that felt like it was crushing her chest.

There were very few good people in the world, and she had met approximately two of them the entire time she had walked this earth. One of them she had loved, despite everything her better judgment had told her, despite the warning of the people that had gotten her this job. The other one had been her friend, and her teammate, through a whole lot of hell that dragged them both down into darkness. The first one had been blown into tiny little pieces right before her eyes, and now the second was throwing himself into the fire for the sake of some girl.

She would have happily died to prevent either, but it wouldn’t do a damned bit of good.

_“He’s a good kid. You been working with him long?” Klein lounged against the wall, watching her with his pale green eyes. She felt like he could see straight through her, like he saw through all her layers to the deep, dark part she kept underneath. It repelled her. It drew her in. He’d been with them a month and she still couldn’t figure out what it was that made her so on edge around him, but she would bet all her money it had something to do with that fucking stare._

_“I guess.” She shrugged, trying to ignore him. “707 was here when I got here. Don’t know where they got him so young, but he’s a whiz at computers.”_

_“Yeah, but I mean he’s_ _ good _ _, right?_ _”_

_She turned, watching him out of the corner of his eye._ _“I just said, didn’t I?”_

_He chuckled, and it sounded like a purr._ _“Don’t play dumb, you know what I mean. He doesn’t belong here. He’s all starry eyed and full of laughter. This pit is gonna suck him dry.” He shifted off the wall, every movement full of a strange grace that made her want to stare at him. He was fluid, like liquid elegance, like every time his muscles flexed it made poetry and music._

_“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugged, and even though she was turned away she could feel him hovering behind her, lurking like an alley cat slinking up to a promising meal. “Not much we can do about it.”_

_“Sure there is.” He leaned over, resting his elbow on the surface of the table so that his face hovered next to hers, his long black hair spilling across his shoulder, ink trickling from a pen. “We can try to make it better for him.”_

_She exhaled, trying to control her irritation, trying not to feel him so close to her._ _“Yeah, sure buddy. And who’s gonna make it better for me?”_

_His eyes bored into her, open and honest, green like crystalline lake water beneath the spring thaw._ _“I could.”_

_The kiss came swiftly, unexpected and explosive, and it stole her breath and heart in one fell swoop. She never had a chance against him._

The memory faded into a different one, full of fire and screaming, his beautiful face disappearing behind the wall of heat and smoke that had claimed him.

They had been true to the agreement, though, or at least the vague idea of what they had wanted to accomplish. They had done their best to make it better for 707 while the agency used him as nothing more than a tool. They made sure he never fired that damn gun the entire time they were together. Except the once. And it hadn’t done a damn bit of good.

Klein had always been right about people, though, and he had read 707 in an instant. He _was_ good. So good that he had never once used the wrong pronouns, even after he had found out that she was trans. He’d never breathed a word of the romance between herself and Klein, even when it could have earned him points with other members of the agency. He had always been ready to do anything for a laugh or a smile, even if it was at his own expense. People like that never should have been in an agency like theirs. People like that deserved to be free. He deserved his freedom, but he was too foolish to take it, walking back into hell because he was too stubborn to let something go. Klein would have been so disappointed in her for letting it play out this way.

She took another drag on her cigarette as the door behind her opened, the click of massive heels echoing against the cement. Goldilocks roamed into view next to her, glaring at the rain as though it were a personal affront to her and her organization.

“Light?” Goldilocks held out her hand, a thin cigarette mashed between her fingers. Vanderwood obliged without a word, pulling her lighter from her pocket and clicking the flame on. She shut it and returned it to its place as Goldi took the glowing stick and stuffed it in her lips, her pink lipstick smearing around the edges. Vanderwood kept her mouth shut and continued watching the rain, and for a time that was all that happened. The pair of them staring at the torrents of frigid water and depression slapping against the unforgiving ground.

After a long time, Goldi pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and spoke without turning her head. “You know your ass is on the line as much as his, right?”

“Excuse me?” her heart thudded in her chest, but she kept her face as neutral as she could.

Goldi took another drag, her face impassive. “Don’t act surprised. You let him get away.”

“No, he escaped. There’s a difference.” She tried to sound angry rather than terrified, but she couldn’t tell how successful she was. Not that it mattered. Not that it would change anything. Goldi had already made up her mind, and there wasn’t a fucking thing Vanderwood could say to alter it.

“Don’t debase yourself with stupid lies. We both know that you could have dragged your ass off that floor and chased him down if you wanted to.” She huffed the smoke out of her nostrils, a cotton candy dragon seething with threat. “You always did get too attached.”

Her hand curled into a fist, her arm shaking as she tried to restrain herself. “Fuck you. I’ve done everything you asked.”

“Maybe.” Goldi shrugged. “Tomorrow you’ll prove it. You’re the one who pulls the trigger, got it?”

Her heart stopped, and all she could hear was the patter of the careless rain drumming in her ears. “What?”

“His heart stops with your bullet. Anything else happens and you’re as dead as he is.” Goldi still wasn’t looking at her, still facing the growing blackness of the night. “And you’d better keep that pretty little spaz-boy in there in one piece and in our custody, too. I have plans for him.”

Internally she recoiled, but outwardly she kept herself from doing anything more than flinch. “You gonna make him an agent?”

“Perhaps.” She grinned, and it was grotesque. “He’s a bit wild. Might have to break him first, to see where he’ll fit. That’s gonna be your job, too. Maybe, just maybe, if you manage not to fuck up either of those things, I won’t rip you to pieces and drop you back in the shit hole you crawled out of.” She flicked her cigarette into the darkness and turned, walking to the door without so much as a glance towards the woman she had just threatened to dismantle. She reached the door, her massive hand wrapping around the handle, but then she paused. “Vanderwood?”

“What?” it took all her effort not to growl out the word, to not scream her loathing for her employer at the top of her lungs.

“There’s one more thing you’ll do before tomorrow. There’s a doctor waiting inside room 6B for you. Report to him as soon as you’re done waxing poetic about your sentimental feelings.” She laughed, an awful, wheezing sound that held more malice than humor. “I’m having a tracker implanted, just in case.”

“In case what?”

“In case you’re dumber than you look.”

She walked through the door and it swung shut behind her, leaving Vanderwood alone with the night once more. Panic roared inside her head, and the cigarette did nothing to calm her anymore so she dropped it on the ground, grinding it against her heel as though it were Goldi herself.

So, this is what it had come down to. She alone would live, and the skeletons of the best two people she had ever known would be stuffed deep into her closet, weighing her down until it was her turn to climb into her grave. It was all shit. Every bit of it. Klein being gone, 707 being stupid. None of it was supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be them against the world, backs together as the slogged through shitty job after shitty job. She was never supposed to be saving a bullet for the boy they had tried so hard to save from the darkness in their field. They should never have played along. They should have put their talents to use and thrown caution to the wind. They shouldn’t have waited around thinking that fate would give them enough time to prepare. Now it was too late and everything was so fucked up, and she didn’t know how to fix it. Klein and 707 were the problem solvers, she had only ever been along for the ride. Doing her best to keep up with people that were too good for her by half. How had this happened? How had she been the one to get through while they were eaten by the machine?

_Dammit, why didn_ _’t we all just run when we had the chance?_  

 


	49. I Want to be Selfish With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which smut. FINALLY SMUT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first things first! Here lies the smut. If you aren't here for that, I have put "***" around the actual smut, so you can still read the before and after and just pretend it fades to black. If you ARE here for this, then holy hell I'm sorry it took me SO VERY LONG to get here. :3
> 
> Secondly, MORE ART. starkind (http://celeste-draws.tumblr.com/) drew this one a few days ago, but I wanted to post it with this chapter, because it felt fitting. LOOK AT IT. IT'S SO DAMN CUTE. Her pictures take my breath away every time I look at them. I'm thinking about getting them framed and hanging them on my walls. ESPECIALLY THIS ONE. AND KLEIN. BUT ULTRA TRUE FOR THIS ONE. 
> 
> Please, please, please send her nice comments. I'M BEGGING YOU. She needs to KNOW. Ignore my silly writing, please just shower her with praise.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this chapter, I tried so hopefully it's not too bad XD

The fire cracked in the hearth, the room filled with the warm orange of the dancing flames, shadows flickering and fading as new light rippled on the walls. The sun had gone down long ago, and the woods around the cabin were quiet, the whisper of the rain on the roof the only thing to disturb the peace. They had finished dinner, and they had finished planning, and now they were lying in each other’s arms, embracing the quiet and each other in equal measure. He was running his fingers through her hair, feather soft from the shower she had taken earlier, breathing in the way that she smelled, focusing on how she felt against him. His other hand rested against the small of her back, holding her as close as he dared. He wished that they could stay like this forever.

Yet the night would eventually grow deeper, and they would eventually drift off to sleep, which would bring the morning closer. No matter his promises, no matter their hope, the next day could bring the end of them. This could be the last time that he got to be close to her like this, and he wanted to cherish it. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him, beyond the fickle meaning of words, beyond what he could tell her with his voice. It was selfish, but he wanted to love her with everything that he had. If this was to be their last night, then he wanted to go into tomorrow knowing that they had done everything they could to make it count.

He had been thinking this for some time, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. It was a heavy sentiment, and he didn’t want to sour the mood with it. It was better to speak only of hope, but to ask this of her was to admit reality, to admit that there was a chance that everything could be lost, and that was a brazen denial of the reasons they were fighting in the first place. Her palms were pressed against his heart, and he felt as though she could feel his internal conflicts, her light touch trying to ease them from his flesh with warmth and love. Again, he thought that she deserved so much better than what he could offer, but what she wanted was him, so he would have to find a way to be worthy of that.

She tilted her head up to look at him, the green in her eyes flickering like the fire. “You okay, love?”

“I want…I want to ask something of you. I want to be selfish with you.” He twined his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head to hold her gaze in place. “I know that I promised to protect you, and I know that we are choosing to believe that tomorrow will go as planned. But…if there is even the smallest possibility that tonight could be the last night I get to be with you, I want to know that you understand the way I feel about you. I want it to leave marks on you, so that you can feel it beyond the words I could say. I want to know that we loved each other as much as we could with the time that we had. I don’t want to leave anything unfinished.”

Her eyes shimmered, pools of stars illuminating the world, one glowing point at a time. “That’s not selfish. I want that, too. I want _you,_ Saeyoung. In every way that I can have you.”

He kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue so he could taste her sigh, sinking into her waiting arms with abandon this time. Tonight, even it if would be the only time, he would not hold back. He would not restrict the rush of his heart or the path of his hands, he would not halt his desire an inch short of where it wanted to go. Tonight she would have all of him, every broken piece offered up to her altar, every touch a prayer to an absent god, a prayer that she would understand, and that he would be worthy. Tonight they would love completely, and in these moments there would be no force that could tear them apart.

***

He shifted his weight as he deepened their kiss, sliding his knee between her legs as he rolled halfway on top of her, settling himself on one elbow. His other hand drifted down to the hem of her shirt, his fingers dipping beneath the edge to brush against her skin. She was soft, like gossamer silk threaded into her flesh, infinitely warm wherever he touched it. He pushed his hand further, until his palm was caressing her stomach, inching towards the bottom of her ribs. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as her tongue danced against his, the air in his own lungs burning as his heart thrummed in his chest.

Her fingers wrapped around the bottom of his shirt, dragging it up around his shoulders so that she could brush her hands against his back. He broke their kiss, tugging the interfering garment off the rest of the way and tossing it aside, looking down at the blush on her cheeks. Her eyes darted across his chest, down to the stitches on his stomach hidden by the bandages, and then back up to meet his gaze. Her pupils were dilated, her lips parted, and she was radiant. He had only a moment to admire it before she brought her hands up, gripping the side of his neck to pull him back down into a kiss, her hips rolling forward to meet his with insistence. He moved his hand further across her chest, up over her ribs to skirt above her bra, the lacy fabric shifting as she took deep breath after deep breath. She moaned into his mouth, and he felt his eyes roll back in his head, the sound wiping away all thought and reason from his mind until all that was left was her.

He took his shaking hands and pulled her shirt over her head, throwing it aside and looking down at her. She propped herself up on her elbows, and her hair spilled across her shoulders. She glowed, every inch of her, ever piece of exposed skin a new, bright gift granted to the cosmos. He was delighted to discover that she had freckles across her shoulders, little galaxies spinning at the top of her arms. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against them, kissing each dot one by one. Her skin was searing against him, born from the fire of all the stars, forged and tempered until she had been crafted into the one weapon that could tear him down and save him in equal measure. Her head fell back at his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she languished in his affections. She moved only enough to unhook her bra and send it sailing across the room, sinking back onto the pillows to grant him access to more of her skin. 

He was greedy with it, savoring every inch as he wound his kisses from her shoulder to the base of her neck, then up across her jawline. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him closer, and their skin pressed together for the first time. It was as though he had never been warm until this moment, as though the very nature of heat had been foreign until the blaze of her flesh met his. He felt her breath heave through her throat as he dragged his teeth across her pulse, he felt her heart clamoring against her ribs as she brushed against his chest. Her fingers found their way up the back of his neck, threading through his hair while her nails scratched softly against his scalp. He groaned, his hips surging forward into hers, pushing her into the cushioned mattress as he tried to maintain his hold on his sanity. She gasped, shivering in his arms, and so he repeated the motion, relishing the sound as she made it once more.

He moved his hands over her, cupping her breasts with the barest amount of pressure, his thumbs rubbing soft circles around her nipples. Her head fell back, puffing into the pillows while her eyes closed and her lips parted. He kissed her again, stealing her next sigh with his tongue as he applied firmer pressure to her peaking chest. She arched her back into his touch, the sound thrumming in her throat sweeter than even her music, and he let it fill him, let it take hold and drive his hunger forward.

He withdrew from her lips and worked his kisses downward, past her throat as her breath came in gasps, between her breasts as he toyed with their tips, down across her stomach as it rolled with each beat of her heart. He reached the top of her pajama bottoms and released her chest, caressing her sides as he brought his hands down to hook his thumbs over the waistband of the pants. He looked up at her, asking for permission without words, a silent question hanging in his gaze. She stared at him, her eyelids half closed, her cheeks luminous with flush, and she bit her lip and nodded.

He removed the pants and undergarments in one long, fluid pull, letting them fall to the floor as he looked at her, exposed against the covers. His breath stuck in his lungs as his eyes devoured her, the fire painting golden rivers against her pale skin. He was awed at the poetry in her curves, at the sacred beauty of her bowed lips, the graceful perfection of the uneven freckles dotting pieces of her body. She was unspeakably breathtaking, and he had to still himself for a moment, staring because he could not believe that this was real, could not believe that this was something that had been given to him. There were no words to express his love, to express his devotion to the goddess with the golden voice and the goofy grin. He needed to tell her, he needed her to know, and so he spoke in the only language he had at the moment, leaning down to press his lips against the inside of her thigh.

He trailed his lips higher, his hands around her hips as her legs shook more with each inch he traversed. He ventured close to her center, breathing her in, the heady scent rushing through his senses and making him feel wild and desperate. He needed her, like nothing that he had ever needed in his life before. He needed her more than water, more than air, more than the ground beneath his feet that was crumbling away with each passing moment. She whimpered as his breath skirted against her core, twitching with the need that he could smell on her. A need for _him._

He removed one hand from her hip and slid a solitary finger into her, the slow motion drawing a cry from her lips as her hips trembled in response. He pulled out and repeated the motion, looking up at her divine face as she cried out again and clenched around his hand. He did it once more, and she responded with the same ardent fervor, her legs wrapping around his shoulders as she tried to find purchase to hold on to. He closed the last of the distance between her and his face, slipping his tongue through her folds to find the wet heat between them. She whimpered as he groaned into her, his eyes closing as she overwhelmed him. He moved his finger faster as his mouth worked against her, murmuring sweet nothings not with words but with the brush of his tongue. She twined her fingers through his hair, holding on as he carried her further towards the edge, and he added another finger into her shuddering core. She was panting heavily, each breath a desperate mewl against his ministrations, her hips rising to meet each thrust of his hand. She whispered his name into the ecstasy laced air and he shuddered as it washed over him. He needed her to say it again, he needed to be inside of her as she gave new meaning to the identity that he had always thought was lost.

He withdrew from between her legs, rising to move back up and settle over her, hovering above her face to watch her burn with need. Her pupils were wide, her gaze full of pleading as her swollen lips drifted open and closed with each new breath. There had never been a more beautiful sight than the love of his life spread beneath him, waiting for his touch with as much vulnerability as any person could show. Her hands found their way to the waistband on his pants, her fingers tugging it downward. They shook as she tried to gain her grip, and he smirked as he helped her finish the job, tossing those to the side with as much care as they had all their other clothing. He shifted against her, laying their bodies together, and she gasped as she felt him press against her stomach, rigid and aching for her. Her palms found the side of his cheeks, holding him as though he were the most precious thing in the world, her eyes full of fire and light that didn’t blind him but drew him in, gentle flames to guide the devoted moth back home, smoldering in a way that gave life against all the destruction in the world.

“I love you.” Her words were halted, but so very pure, so raw and honest that even with all his confidence problems and tangles with guilt, he could not doubt them. It was the only thing true in this world, and it was his and his alone.

He surged forward, swallowing her in a fierce kiss that held all his being. He used one hand to lift her leg, angling her hips, and then slid into her as she moaned into his throat.

“I love you, too.” He pressed his forehead against her, trying to breathe as tides of emotion swept him away. There was no perfection but the meeting of their hips, there was no brilliance but the shine in her eyes, there was no warmth beyond the heat of her legs wrapped around him. Of all the hundreds of millions of words, in all the different languages, there were none that could describe the bliss and savage love of this moment. He was whole, he was saved, and her light touched his soul as they broke through all barriers to connect with each other on every level.

When he could bear the stillness no longer he started to move with her, thrusting as her hips rose to meet his rhythm. She threw her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into the skin on his back. He was vaguely away that his injury hurt with every movement, but he was too lost in the pleasure to care. Waves of euphoria swept him away, ebbing and flowing with each new flex of her muscles, with each new cry into the ruddy darkness. Their pace was one of starvation, of endless need that crested and fell with the beat of their hearts, syncing to one cadence that ushered them onward. She tightened around him, her cries becoming more fervent, her breath more ragged and needy. He sank into it, giving her everything, holding back nothing, loving her without hesitation or resistance in the sincerest way he knew how.

“Saeyoung.” His name was an incantation of love from her lips, holy and sacred, held in the deepest part of her heart as the greatest truth and spoken with unwavering reverence. She chanted it, over and over, murmuring it in his ear until it was all he could hear while all he could feel was her heat, her passion, and his insatiable need to have more of her, all of her, to become part of her so that she would never have to let him go.

They tumbled over the edge together, his orgasm spilling inside her as they both screamed relief and bliss, filling the space between the walls of the cabin with their tandem joy. It spread outward, igniting the world with love and hope, destroying the dark memories that lingered there to replace them with light.

He collapsed against her, struggling to regain his breath as his heart tried to shatter against his ribs. Her breath stirred the curls in his hair as she held him close, skin damp from the exertion and pressed together wherever they could manage. He felt like the world was spinning, and he blinked, trying to orient himself. Her fingers wound through his hair, plying apart the tangles with lazy caresses, her own heart thudding against his own.

***

He shifted his weight so he wasn’t crushing her, moving to lay beside her. She automatically folded back into his arms, and he kissed the top of her head as he held her, thanking the stars for all his blessings. She planted a sweet kiss against the side of his mouth, smiling up at him, sleepy and glowing with happiness.

“I love you so much, Saeyoung.” Her eyes were already fluttering closed, and he grinned down at her, the greatest gift he had ever been given.

“I love you too, Nicky. So much.” He watched her sink into dreams, her breath evening out until it was long and slow, the rhythm of a girl pushed deep into exhaustion.

It wasn’t long before he followed her, at peace for once in his life, clinging to her as sleep swelled over the top of his consciousness. Before he was gone, though, he knew that he could not allow this night to be their last. This was too beautiful, too wonderful to let go of so soon. He wanted a thousand nights like this, and a thousand morning afterward, and he would do _anything_ to make it happen. He would keep his promise. He would save them both. He would bring his brother home and teach him how to move on from the scars of the past. He would hold Nicky at the end of every night and kiss her at the dawn of every day. They would live, and love, and have the family that he never knew he had wanted until he met her.

Love alone couldn’t save them, but it could remind him what he was fighting for, and that could be enough to dispel the darkness once and for all.

 


	50. Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our couple wakes up to greet the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this fluff. Savor it. Hold it close in the chapters to come. 
> 
> :3

He woke up before the sun, the fire in the hearth burned to nothing but cinders so that the room was full of gentle darkness. Nicky was still entangled with him, her legs meshed with his, her arms thrown over his waist. Her face was tucked securely against his shoulder, so that her breath danced across his chest. He nuzzled the top of her head, careful not to wake her, though she seemed to be deep in slumber so there was little chance of that happening. He shivered as the cold air brushed against his shoulder, so he adjusted the blankets around them to ensure they were both safely encapsulated. He couldn’t keep from grinning at the fact that Nicky was still pressed against him, not a shred of clothes on her. He still felt like she was glowing, like the effects of their night together had carried into the early dawn and were set to linger long after. He could have died a happy man after his experience with her, as so much bliss was surely never intended to belong to one person at once.

Except he wouldn’t die at all, because now that he knew the full extent of what they had together he could never let it go. He knew without a shred of doubt that their love was strong, and worth fighting for until the world pried it from his cold, dead hands.

_“Promise me.”_

_“You know she’d hit you for being morbid again, right?” he shrugged his jacket higher around his shoulders, the turn in conversation making him nervous. Klein was talking like he was making a will, which was stupid since they didn’t exist enough to have things to leave behind._

_Klein grinned, that same grin that always made him feel like a cat burglar had gotten into his house and he_ _’d offered them dinner. “True, but still. Promise me.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Haven’t you ever wanted to protect someone more than you wanted to protect yourself?” Klein slid in front of him, blocking his path forward, bouncing on his toes. “Haven’t you ever wanted to make sure someone was safe? And happy?”_

_There was way too much truth in those sentences for Seven to ever admit to, so instead he rolled his eyes._ _“Yeah, but not some girl.”_

_Klein frowned, shaking his head._ _“She’s not some girl. She’s THE girl. Besides, that’s not the point. I’m sure you’ll get it some day, but for now I just need you to promise me.”_

_“We’ve been trying for over a year. Don’t you think we would have found a way by now if there was one?” he was getting irritated, hating to be reminded of the fact that there was no way out. It had been stupid to hope._

_Klein wrapped his arm around his head, rubbing his knuckles against his scalp._ _“Aww, poor Agent 707 is trying to be all jaded, just like the grown-ups.”_

_He shoved him off, barely suppressing his laughter as his head tingled._ _“Dude, I’m twenty. That qualifies as a full adult in most countries.”_

_“Yeah, uh-huh. Don’t get all broody on me just because you had a birthday.” Klein clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes softening and his voice dropping to a tone that was usually reserved for Vanderwood and Vanderwood alone. “Just promise already.”_

_He sighed, relenting because he could see that Klein wasn_ _’t going to give up until he did. “Fine. I swear.”_

_“Good. Oh, and remember to make her smile and laugh, too. She gets so into her own head sometimes. She forgets that there’s still a lot of great things in this world to hold on to.”_

_“Seriously?” he punched Klein’s shoulder and the wiry man squealed and hopped to the side. “Stop talking like you’re dying. You’re creeping me out.”_

_The grin Klein flashed him was ten thousand watts of sprightly glee._ _“Yes sir, secret agent Seven.” He grabbed his head and kissed his cheek before Seven had any time to react to it, and he glared and wiped the spot with his sleeve as Klein bounded down the hallway, his legs moving like he thought he was on skates. “I know it’s a big ask, but don’t worry. You’ll grow into it. Remember, you promised!”_

He’d thought about that moment a million times, wondering if he had known. If he had been tipped off to the information, but for some reason had refused to share it. How he could have walked into that building a week later, knowing what would happen, had always been beyond his comprehension. Sacrificing for his brother he could understand, spilling blood for blood was an equation that offered equilibrium. For love, though? That had been so odd to think of. Yet, as his fingers pressed into Nicky’s skin, he thought maybe he could finally get it. Saeyoung would have done the same for her, any day, any time.

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face before reaching over and fumbling for his phone on the nightstand. He was already doing everything that he could to honor his promise, albeit with the one hiccup when he had rushed to save Nicky, but there was no use brooding over the past. It was full of things he couldn’t change, and right now he needed to focus on the future, because that was the only place his energy was going to do any good. He flicked his phone on and saw that he had received a message from Jumin sometime late afternoon yesterday, probably around the time Nicky had been sobbing in the mud because she couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a tractor, let alone a can with a bullet.

He opened the app and pulled up the message, taking in the picture and the text in two chilling seconds. He grabbed his glasses from their resting place, affixing them on the bridge of his nose, but clarity didn’t make the truth any easier to bear. He navigated to Jumin’s contact information and called him, holding the phone to his ear and sitting up slightly, trying not to wake Nicky as his heart rate increased.

“Saeyoung?” the voice on the other end was stern and fully awake, which gave him twofold advantage against the groggy, still tired hacker.

“I got your message.” His voice cracked, raw from an overabundance of heavy breathing and yelling the night prior, and he cleared it, trying to keep it down to a low whisper to maintain the peaceful hush settled over the room. “You said you all got one of those emails?”

“Yes. Are you well? You sound ill. Why are you whispering?”

_Geez, nosy._ He was worse than Zen. “Yeah, I’m fine, just trying not to wake Nicky.” He cleared his throat again, wishing he’d thought to grab a glass of water before trying to speak. “Listen, that logo, it’s the same one that was in the email sent out to Nicky, and on all those documents in Rika’s apartment.”

“You’re sure?”

Saeyoung rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Jumin, kind of hard to forget something like that, you know?”

“Of course.” He could feel Jumin’s frown through the phone, carrying across the very mountains like a bitter wind. “Should we be concerned?”

“I’d say so.” He shoved his hair out of his eyes, frustrated. “I don’t know. It would take time to trace the sender, and I don’t _have_ any time because we have to meet with the agency at noon.”

Nicky groaned against him, her eyes screwing shut tighter for a moment before slowly pulling open. She blinked up at him, her expression hazy as she took in the phone and his expression. “Something wrong?”

Despite the unpleasant news he had just received, it was gratifying to him that her voice was even more hoarse than his. He tilted the receiver away slightly. “Hey beautiful.” He bent his head so he could kiss her lips, taking a moment to once again appreciate the splendor that was seeing her first thing in the morning.

She smiled as he released her, a dopey grin that was still half in the land of dreams. “Who’s on the phone?” she half lifted her head and tried to pull her arm free, but it apparently proved to be too much effort and she fell back against him, snuggling in closer.

“Is that Nicolette? Is she awake?”

He sighed, returning the receiver to his face. “Yes, Jumin, she’s waking up now. Give me a second.”

“Jumin? Hello Jumin.” She mumbled the words into his bare chest, her lips tickling his skin.

“I don’t think he can hear you, love. Are you going back to sleep or are you curious why I called him?”

“Mmmm.” The sound wasn’t as happy as it normally was when she made it, but it still took all his might to keep from pouncing on her once again. In their current state of undress there was only one way that could end. “Yeah, I’m up. What’s happening?” this time she shifted so that she wasn’t so enshrouded in the covers, blinking forcefully to wake herself further.

“Jumin says everyone in the RFA got a strange email.” He tilted his screen, putting the phone on speaker as he flipped through to Jumin’s message. “Jumin, you’re on speaker so I can show her the message.”

“Good morning, Nicolette. I hope you had a pleasant night.”

She started to laugh, then morphed it into a cough as her cheeks turned scarlet. “Yes, thanks. It was…very pleasant.”

Saeyoung chuckled as he held the phone up for her to look at the message, though both their smiles faded as she saw the image. “Apparently they all had that logo.”

“But…” her brows furrowed above her delicate nose. “If Saeran is with the agency, who’s sending these ones?”

“The sender was someone called ‘Mint Eye’.”

Saeyoung shrugged. “Maybe this ‘savior’ person he kept talking about? I suppose if he was targeting us it wasn’t entirely for his own revenge. Whoever brainwashed him must still be trying to get in our heads.” His frown deepened as he remembered the books stacked on his brother’s desk. “Although I can promise you whatever this ‘paradise’ is, it’s bad news.”

“That’s what I had feared.” Jumin sighed, his breath rushing into the phone. “I will increase the security details around the other RFA members until you return later today and can investigate the matter further.”

“Thanks, Jumin. We’ll try to hurry. And…” he hesitated, glancing down at Nicky, who was chewing at her lower lip with worry already. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to make any provisions in case they failed, because he could no longer allow failure to happen. Still, if the other’s lives were in any way on the line, he owed it to them to make sure they were prepared.

“You don’t need to say it. I understand the possibilities. I will ensure everyone is safe, regardless of the outcomes.”

Saeyoung breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Please, focus your energy on getting both of you through today safely. And let me know if there is anything that you need in the meantime.”

Nicky smiled, pressing her cheek against his chest as she talked at the phone. “Hey Jumin?”

“Yes?”

“Try not to stress too much, your hair will turn grey.”

They heard rustling on the other end of the line, and they both had to suppress giggles as they pictured Jumin’s hand flying to the top of his head.

“Very funny, Nicolette.”

Saeyoung laughed, then looked back at Nicky. “You ready for breakfast, space princess?”

She nodded, sitting up and stretching her arms into the air. The blankets slid off her shoulders and she immediately recoiled from the cold, shivering and rubbing her arms. It had given him quite the view, however, and he was officially done with talking to Jumin.

“Alright, Jumin, we’re gonna get going so we can start the day. Stay safe, and don’t turn completely grey on us.”

“I’m not turning…” he sighed in exasperation, stopping the protest before he got carried away. “Yes, fine. Come back to us safely, and let us know as soon as you’ve returned.”

He disconnected the call and set the phone down, wrapping his arms around his love and pulling her close to him. She still smelled like the night before, his own scent lingering against her skin, and it drove him crazy. He wished that they had an infinite amount of time to remain in the bed, until they had been with each other so many times they couldn’t even move any more, and even then he wanted to stay, wrapped up in her limbs as exhaustion claimed them. He kissed her shoulder and she hummed her approval, which was not improving his resolve to get up.

“You’re impossible.” He mumbled the words against her, unwilling to move his lips from her skin.

“Oh?”

He closed his eyes, pretending they had nowhere to go ever again. “I don’t want to get out of bed. You’re too irresistible.”

She slid her hands behind her, so that she could wrap them around his head, holding him even closer. “Remember that, then. If things go wrong today, remember that and don’t give up.” Her voice broke on the end of the request, and he knew it was from more than being hoarse. He held her tighter, pressing her against his chest so she could feel his beating heart.

“I’ll never give up. Not ever again.”

“Good.” She nodded, as though the matter were forever settled, then she sighed and pulled away from him, scooting to the edge of the bed and peering at the floor. “Come on, we should probably locate our clothes and get breakfast while we still have time. I know it’s a bit of a drive to the meeting place.”

He flopped back onto the pillows, arching his back into a long stretch as he watched her leave the warmth of the blankets and tiptoe across the cold floor. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and her search for her clothes became more frenetic as the icy air got the better of her. He put his arms behind his head, a smirk stretching his lips until it gradually became a broad grin that he couldn’t suppress. After a few moments she turned towards him, her cheeks bright red as she glared in his direction.

“What’s so funny?”

He reached under the covers and retrieved the bundle of cloth that was bunched up near his feet, holding it up for her to see. “Looking for this?” he dangled her pajama pants like a prize.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then tilted her chin in the air. “Nope.” She leaned down and picked something up off the floor and drew it over her head. She stood there in defiance then, wearing his shirt better than he ever could, skewed so that one shoulder was peeking out of the collar, the hem draped against the very tops of her thighs. The noise that worked its way out of his throat could be described as nothing less than a whine, and he clenched his hands as he tried to remain in place. She lifted her hand, aiming an accusatory finger right at him. “I _knew_ you’d have a thing for girls wearing your clothes.”

His jaw fell open. “What? I don’t have a thing. I have no things. None.”

She giggled, taking a step towards the bed, and he stared at the way the shirt clung to her waist. “Oh really?” she hopped onto the mattress and crawled across the distance between them, her movement slow and deliberate until she had straddled him, leaning in close to his face. “Would you prefer I took it off, then?” her voice was a low purr that sent shivers down his spine. He reached up and grabbed the sides of her face, pulling her down into a kiss that started as desperate and wound its way into slow and sweet, both reluctant to let go.

He pulled back first, rubbing their noses together. “I think ‘my thing’ is you, Nicky.”

She smiled a big, goofy grin and collapsed against his chest, sighing. “I can live with that.”

“Alright space princess,” he kissed the top of her head before reaching down and slapping her half exposed bottom, eliciting a squeal and glare from her perch on top of him, “We should _actually_ start getting dressed now. We’ve only got about an hour before we need to hit the road, and I want you to eat breakfast.”

“We also have to change the dressing on your stitches.” She hopped off him, dismounting on the other side of the bed and heading towards her bag, forgetting about the pajamas in favor of clothes that would be more appropriate for the rest of the day. He watched her for just second longer, letting his gaze linger on every part of her. He would never admit it, but she had been right. Her wearing his clothes was definitely _his thing._

“My stitches are fine, it can wait until we get back.” He slid his feet over the edge of the bed, picking up his rumpled boxers and sliding them on over his legs.

He heard her sigh behind him. “Oh no, we _definitely_ need to check them after last night.”

“As m’lady commands.” He chuckled as he stood and walked to his own bag of things, digging around for a fresh set of clothes.

“Don’t you start that, too. I swear to God I will by you all fedoras for Christmas and glue them to your stupid heads.” She stomped towards the bathroom, muttering something about stupid boys and their misguided chivalry.

They busied themselves with getting dressed, managed to scarf down enough breakfast that one wouldn’t nag the other, and Saeyoung let her fuss over his stitches for all of fifteen minutes before he demanded the bandages get replaced and promised they could see a doctor when they got back. She obliged with a scold, soothed the sting with a kiss, and then they gathered up their things and headed to the car.

He turned and looked back at the cabin, wondering if he would ever have cause to return. It was strange that a place he had been to less times than he had fingers could feel like more of a home than the apartment he spent every day in. The number of happy memories that he had in his life were meager, although in the past twelve days alone they had doubled. A good portion of those memories had happened here, in the shabby walls of a cabin built off the grid, lost to those that had once owned it so that people that didn’t exist could use it as a haven. The day was grey again, the clouds above ominous and threatening rain, but he noticed that the flower in the pot on the railing looked like it was blooming, reaching towards the sunless sky, determined to find the light.

He got in the car and started the engine, rolling out of the driveway and back onto the trail towards the highway, the entire time thinking about seeds. Not all seeds turned into flowers, and not all plants could bloom, but he felt like Klein had planted more than just the buds in the broken pots at the places they had stayed. He’d planted things in him and Vanderwood, and Saeyoung had never understood until today. Now he could see the meaning clearly, the strange things the man had said coming into focus to paint a picture of freedom he could have never grasped before. Klein had loved despite all the dangers, and he had done his best to make the two of them follow. It had been too late, and he would never see the fruits of his labor, but Saeyoung sent out a silent thanks to the friend that he couldn’t have saved.

_I grew, Klein. Just like you wanted, I grew._


	51. Let me Keep You Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they arrive at the rendezvous point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, quick question: If I were to write a full blown story about Saeyoung, Vanderwood, and Klein that covered their days together in the agency, how many of you would be interested in reading that? The whole story of how they met, how Klein stole Vanderwood's heart, and everything that happened that terrible night that they lost him.
> 
> Let me know with a comment. It doesn't have to be a long thing, if leaving comments isn't your jam, but a quick "yes" or "gross" would be helpful. ^^

He had driven most of the way, but when the sun had worked its way towards the middle of the sky and the mile counter dwindled down to just twenty they had switched. If their plan was going to work she had to be in the driver’s seat from the beginning, or else risk the whole thing falling apart. It was lucky for them that there wasn’t much farther to go, and little opportunity to get lost. He had restricted himself to minimal teasing in that regard, although when he had desperately needed to make her smile he might have sunk so low. Once or twice. Her laughter was a balm against the tension building in his chest, and he was selfish as he stole it from her, drawing it out to keep the light alive. 

This was it. This was the moment. The time where the fight could be won or lost. Their determination could prove enough to see them through, or too little after a long string of events that had pushed them past the point of too late. One mistake could cost him everything. His brother, his old partner, the love of his life. Possibly even further than that, if this Mint Eye was still after the RFA. What would happen if he failed? How many people would suffer?

He closed his eyes and remembered the way she said his name, the way it sounded like hope and love when it left her lips. He was not the failure he thought himself to be. No one whose name could be spoken like that could be a mistake. He had value, and he had worth, and he would fight today to prove it. It would work. They would prevail. There were no other options.

She slowed the car by several degrees, easing off the gas as the GPS informed them of the two-mile marker.

“Is everything ready?” she kept her eyes on the trail ahead, but he could still see the fear in them. He glanced at his laptop, the programs ready and waiting, biding time until the stroke of his key would populate the fake server with the information he had stolen. He had copies, of course, but he was good at what he did. This would look like everything was spread out before them, convincing them that he would honor the deal, but then that was plan B. Plan A was much more complicated, but they had decided together that it was the one they both supported.

“Yeah. Everything’s set up. You remember what to do?”

She rolled her eyes and smirked. “I’m bad with directions, but my memory is excellent.”

“Then you’ll remember that I’ll protect you, right?” he hadn’t meant it to come out so somber, but he could only pretend everything was alright for so long before the cracks in his bravery would start to show. He was never meant to be the hero. It was a mark of how desperate things were that he was stuck in that role.

“I’ll be fine.” She rapped her knuckles against the window. “Bulletproof, right? Protect Saeran first. And yourself.”

He sighed, letting his head drop back against the seat. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

The trees around them thinned and they could see a broad, flat clearing up ahead. At the far end he spotted two figures standing about twenty feet from the edge of the woods, one of them with broad shoulders and the other hunched and thin. He sat up, straining to see, squinting so that he could make out any detail that would indicate their safety or lack thereof. He glanced at the thick forest all around them and frowned, sweat forming in the center of his palms.

“Welcome to ambush alley.” He muttered the words, eyes scanning the shadows, but there was no sign of movement. There was also no way in hell that the people in his line of sight were the only people at these coordinates.

Nicky put the car in park thirty feet from Vanderwood and Saeran, then she turned to him. “This is it.”

He nodded, holding her gaze. He put his hand on the handle of the door, pulling it out halfway before thinking better and letting go, leaping across the seat and grabbing her face. He pulled her into a fierce kiss, pouring himself into her, absorbing every ounce of love and faith and luck that he could from her sweet, warm lips. _Fight for this, fight for forever, don_ _’t let it be the end._ He pulled back but couldn’t let her go, holding her in place as tears burned in the back of his gaze. Her fingers were shaking as they wrapped around his own.

“I love you.” He whispered it, his voice failing him, his mind reeling with all the possibilities that he was trying to deny could happen.

“I’ll be waiting for you, so you had better get your ass back in this car as quickly as possible.” She laughed, tears gleaming in the corners of her gaze, and a bubble of nervous laughter worked its way out of his own chest.

“Well, I can hardly say no to that.” He kissed her again, quick and greedy, praying that it wouldn’t be the final time he brushed her lips. Vowing that he wouldn’t let it be the last time. Then he returned to his side of the car and opened the door.

He stepped out and the gravel crunched beneath his sneakers, sloshing beneath his weight as the grains of rock and dirt were heavy with the morning’s rain. His feet felt like they were made of lead as he walked forward, staring at the duo waiting for him across the vast expanse between them. He could see that Saeran looked miserable, and his face was covered in vivid bruises beneath the seething anger in his grimace. Vanderwood looked equally unhappy, and Saeyoung was filled with a fresh wave of guilt and self-loathing as he looked at the bright purple smear across her temple. Nicky’s wrist was still bruised from her own harrowing encounter back at the apartment, and he could see it clearly every time he closed his eyes. Everyone around him was getting marked by his failures, no person safe from the destruction that followed at his heels. Pain was like his shadow, moving whenever he moved, and everyone he touched became trapped in it.

He swallowed, ignoring the urge to sink to his knees and beg them all for forgiveness. He had to stick to the plan. For all their sake’s.

He lifted his hand and waved, plastering the most sarcastic grin he could muster on his frigid face.

Vanderwood greeted him with a chilly glare. “You got the data?” her eyes darted to the trees, a subtle tip off that they weren’t alone. He didn’t need the warning, but he appreciated it all the same. It gave him hope that she had bothered at all.

“What, no ‘hello’? ‘How ya been’? ‘Long time no see’?” he shoved his hands in his pocket, trying not to cry as the extent of Saeran’s injuries came into full view. He looked like he’d been smashed against the ground, pale and shuddering beneath scrapes and blooming lavender splotches. He couldn’t quite tell if he was shaking from fear or fury, and he hated the idea of both.

Vanderwood rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot as always, I see.” She looked at the car and then frowned deeper, shaking her head. “And you brought the girl. You really are so fucking stupid.” She sounded disappointed. She was probably rightfully so. This was a long shot at best, and Nicky should be a thousand miles away, but he was too weak to fight her will, too in love to do anything but let her stay, so here they were.

He let his smile drop, his eyes flicking to his brother. “It doesn’t look like you took my message to heart. Or did you just beat the shit out of him before you got it?” Saeran gazed back at him with naked hatred. The bruises all over his face were the least violent thing about him, and he wanted to erase their entire history and start over.

“Look, I didn’t do it for shits and giggles. You know the fucking drill. Where’s the data?” the tremor in her voice was real, the bravado was not. What a show they would give the agency, two saps pretending that they were hardened and cold, pretending that they hadn’t both cried like children when Klein had died, pretending that they weren’t even now trying to think of fifty different ways to save the other. They had always been a good team.

“The data is on the laptop in the car. It’s ready to be deleted, all you have to do is press go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Then do it.”

“No, you do it.” He held a hand out, as though inviting her into his home and not asking her to walk across the field that was definitely the midpoint of dozens of gun sights. “Give me Saeran, then go to the car and delete it.” Saeran grimaced when he used his name, but he didn’t speak. “If anything is suspicious, you have Nicky as collateral.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “And why the hell should I do what you ask?”

This was the tricky part. This was the part that could backfire in an instant if she was wearing a live mic, or if she was angry enough at him that it would push her past her breaking point rather than draw her back into his protection. She would either trust him completely or shoot him where he stood.

“Because I made a promise to Klein.”

Her eyes went wide, and everything stayed deathly silent around them, so he could at least discount the idea that whatever communication she had on her was listening at will. For a heartbeat he thought she might actually pull out her gun and shoot him. For another heartbeat he thought she might jump forward and strangle him instead. Finally she growled in fury and lifted the lapel of her jacket, clicking something and speaking into it.

“I’m moving to the car to get the data. Stand by.” She grabbed Saeran’s elbow and shoved him forward, pushing him into Saeyoung’s arms before she stalked towards the car.

***

Her hands shook but she hid it in the pockets of her jacket, stalking forward to the car where the pretty, wide eyed girl sat watching everything unfold. _Moron. Imbecile._ If she meant to him what Klein had to her then the redhead wouldn’t be sitting in that driver’s seat… _bastard._ His name was like a keyword, unlocking things in her heart that weren’t meant to be out in the open. It _meant_ something, that name, and he knew good and well that it did, so if he had used it without the best fucking reason then she would be happy to follow Goldi’s orders. It wouldn’t be the first time she had shot someone out of spite and drank an entire bar to forget it. _I made a promise._ Fucking idiot boys, sentimental fools to the end. This was what she got for letting them crawl their way through her defenses.

_“I’ll love you even after I’m gone. I’ll watch you from wherever we go, always. We’ll always be together.”_

_“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going anywhere.”_

_“I mean it. I love you. Forever. There’s nothing in the world that can take that from us.”_

_He kissed her protests away, and for that moment, that one brief instant, she believed him._

Vanderwood reached the car and threw open the passenger side door, getting in and looking at the girl with trepidation. She was shaking like a spring doe, her innocent eyes crinkling as she tried her best to smile wide.

“Hello Miss Vanderwood. Nice to finally meet you.”

Her lips twitched upward, but she didn’t smile. “In person, you mean. I guess it’s better than watching you be boring on some screen all day.” She looked at the laptop, her eyes flicking over the information on the screen. “So what am I doing here, Red?” she knew she hadn’t been sent to the car to grab the data. He was sentimental, but nobody could be that gullible to think that doing what Goldi asked would end up with any outcome that wasn’t a clusterfuck. He invoked that name for a reason, he dragged that ghost from the grave for a purpose.

The girl lifted her hand, careful to keep the movement below the edge of the window, and pressed the play button on the stereo. Seven’s voice filled the car, talking to her through a recording spewing through the speakers.

“I knew you’d listen if I mentioned him.” _Fuck you._ “You can be pissed if you want, but don’t give any indication that something is wrong. I’m getting us both out of this damn mess, whether you like it or not.” _You sound like him, too._ “I have a contact that will be able to get you all the credentials you need to disappear from the reach of the agency. You can move on and have that normal life we always talked about.” _That life burned away. It was dead with him. You know that, you gave up too._ “All you have to do is go along with our plan, and none of us need to get hurt, no matter what Goldi has threatened.” _Right. Sure._ “What I want you to do is radio the boss and tell her there’s a problem with the encryption, and that you need me to fix it. Nicky will drive over slowly, and when she gets close I’ll jump in the car with Saeran and we’ll get out of here. The car is bulletproof, so we should be able to outrun them.” _Why the fuck do you bother? Why not give up and just accept that all of it was hopeless?_ “And in case freedom isn’t enough to sway you, or you doubt me, I want you to know that I meant what I said. A few days before the raid he pulled me aside and made me promise that if anything ever happened to him, I was to keep you safe, and to get you out. No matter what, he wanted to find a way to get you out. When I asked him why, he said you were _the_ girl, and that you were someone he wanted to make sure was safe and happy, even more than himself. Then he waxed poetic about growing into the task and made fun of me for being a kid. So, you couldn’t possibly doubt me now, because nobody but Klein would ever say stupid shit like that. So, Vanderwood, are you ready to get out?”

The tears were there behind her eyes, begging to be released. She clenched her jaw, holding them back, praying that she could keep it together. _You jerk. You knew, you stupid, selfish jerk. You knew and you left me behind. I would have gone with you._

“Think fast, I don’t think we have a lot of time.” The girl was biting her lip, staring at the two brothers, and things did not appear to be going smoothly between them.

Vanderwood lifted her lapel, clicking on the mic just beneath the fold. “There’s a bug in the encryption, I need him to fix it. I’m taking the girl hostage and we’re moving forward to get him. Stand by.” She clicked the mic back off, then drew her gun, holding it loosely in the girl’s direction. “This is for show, so don’t flip out on me.”

“I’m sturdier than I look.” She smirked as she pressed down on the gas and started to roll the car forward.

_“I’m stronger than I look. I’m not some delicate flower you need to protect.”_

_“Delicate? No. Never that. I like that you could crush me to death under the weight of your glare.” He bit her lip, dragging her head down into the kiss. “But I’ll still protect you until I can’t anymore. That’s what you do for the people you love.”_

_“You keep saying that word. You don’t mean it.” Her heart stopped every time, but she never told him that._

_“Stop that. Stop hiding from me like I’m everyone else.”_

_“Hiding keeps me alive.” His hands were everywhere, and her breath caught in her throat._

_“Let me keep you alive.” He bit her neck, teeth scraping against her skin, tongue soothing the sting. “Let me love you.”_

_“…Okay.”_

She sniffed, wiping her eye irritably, smashing the past back down like dew crushed on the grass beneath boot heels. “So, listen, there’s something you guys should know…”

***

He lost his footing as the woman let go of his elbow, sliding in the wet mud and straight into the arms of the liar. Saeyoung tried to catch him and set him to rights, but Saeran didn’t want to be anywhere near him. His skin crawled with the very idea of it, like acid dripping down his spine. He shoved out with his palms, hard, making contact with his brother’s stomach briefly before he scrambled away, keeping a few feet of distance between them. Saeyoung doubled over, a grimace of anguish on his face, and he remembered the knife, and the blood, and wondered if he was still bleeding beneath his big, black jacket.

Bang. He wanted the bang. He wanted the trees to erupt with swarms of bullets descending on them like carrion creatures, stirring the wind with invisible wings. He wanted the popping fireworks of death ringing in his ears as his brother writhed on the ground before him, a worm diced into pieces. He wanted blood. He wanted all the blood, pouring through the cracks, sticking to his fingers like honey, warm and sweet.

He took a deep breath, willing the thoughts back down. His head throbbed. It had been so long since he’d had his medicine.

Saeyoung was standing upright again, looking at him with eyes that seemed too wide and open. “Does your head hurt?” he meant the bruises. The bruises were nothing. A badge of honor. A blip on the radar of his pain, agony that rain far deeper. Their mother had done far worse.

“Shut up.” Saeran stared at the ground.

“How many times did they hit you?”

“I said shut up.” He didn’t like the way his voice sounded. He didn’t like it at all. It was older, and deeper, but it still reminded him of ice cream and rooftops, of stars stretching out above his head while the ground was so far down below. He could have jumped. He should have jumped.

_Look up._ What a lie.

The woman was in the car now. He didn’t want to look at her, so he continued staring at the ground. He imagined that the little rocks were all mountains, and he was a giant towering over them. No, he was the sky, full of empty air and scorn, laughing at the frail, tiny things below. He ground the heel of his boot down and watched the mud swallow the edge of his sole.

Saeyoung stepped towards him, intruding on his space. He could not be the sky with this storm on the horizon. He snapped his eyes up to him, barely containing the growl that wanted to work its way out of his throat. He imagined his brother’s hair was fire, burning him from the top down, searing his skin and that stupid, pitying look on his face until he melted into a puddle to drown amongst the model mountains in his domain. He looked so sorry. Lies. Lies, lies, lies. The Savior was the only one who felt sorrow. She was the only one who knew the true meaning of salvation and redemption. She would grant him the sweet release of revenge.

She would be waiting with his medicine. He needed his medicine.

“Listen, I know you must be scared, but I’m getting you out of here.” Saeyoung was speaking again, his words whispering through the willows at the edge of the stream, warm and bright and _lies._ “I need you to cooperate with me to keep you safe.”

He felt his own eyes grow wide as saucers, and he imagined what it might feel like if they kept opening like that, pulling all the way apart to wrap around him, flipping him inside out so that all his nerves hung in the muddy air. He realized that his brother had a plan, and his heart rattled its chains, waking from numb slumber to slam against his ribs. Trap. It was a trap.

He took a step back, shrinking from the pale, yellow softness of his twin’s gaze. “Trap.” He meant to scream but it came out muddled, filthy from the wet dirt, muffled by the grey. “Trap!” this time he had more volume. He saw dreams in his brother’s eyes, and with one more shout he could make them shatter. He wanted to see the pieces crumble to dust at his feet. _Break. Break into a million pieces like my bones whenever she struck me. Break like my heart when you never came home. Break._ He drew in a deep breath, and this time he would scream loud enough to summon the death he deserved.

“Shit. Sorry about this.” Saeyoung moved faster that he would have expected, darting forward with lightning speed, pulling something from his pocket. He heard the pretty tinkle of glass and it reminded him of the wind on the side of the building when he had dashed into the apartment. So much glass. Always broken. Had the dreams shattered yet? Saeyoung grabbed him and put something over his mouth, thick and cottony. A cloud? He was putting clouds in the sky. He tried to shove him off, driving an elbow into the place where he had cut him, savage, furious, with all the force he had. It was like beating a brick wall, and he gasped when Saeyoung failed to move.

Everything smelled so sweet. Like his medicine. Did Saeyoung bring his medicine?

He blinked, looking at the car as it started to approach. There were things coming out of the trees. They glittered in the pale light. Stars? Had the stars come to count them?

The girl drove the car. He blinked again, trying to see her. Her eyes were wide. She was afraid. He didn’t like it when she was afraid. He tried to say something to her, but everything was getting darker. He couldn’t feel his hands. He had medicine now. _It will all be okay now, Nicolette. The medicine is here. It makes the pain go away._

Then the blackness took him, and he sighed as he let everything go.


	52. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is escape, and some emails.

It should have taken minutes to knock Saeran out, but he stopped struggling after about thirty seconds and was limp in his arms mere moments later, his eyes fluttering closed and a smile finally lifting the tops of his cheeks. He didn’t have time to worry about what kind of ill omen that portended, however, as something had tipped the agency off that he was not there to die quietly like a good broken soldier. Agents poured out the tree line, metal jackets and guns glittering in the filtered sunlight, and he swore again as the car started rolling forward. Had it been his brother’s shouts? Their struggles as he put him to sleep? Or had Vanderwood turned him in?

He glanced up, meeting her eyes through the windshield of the car, and he _knew_ that it hadn’t been her.

The sound of gunshots peppered through the air, the silencers enough to dull the pops so that the echoes were strange and muted. He ducked, curling himself around Saeran as he tried to find a way to prop him up in his arms, pumping his legs in the best run that he could manage. The car stopped, for one crucial second as Nicky hesitated on the gas, stalling out.  It was only for the span of a heart beat, the flutter of the wings of a hummingbird, and then the engine was revved back to life and she was moving forward again. That was all it took, though. That one small delay had been what they had needed, and a group of agents were able to cut across the distance, standing between him and his getaway vehicle. They lifted their guns and aimed as the car rolled to a halt behind them. He could see Vanderwood gesturing angrily, and Nicky shaking her head. _Of course_ she would refuse to run them over. Caring to a fault, and even now when it seemed inconvenient he loved her more than anything for it. _Never change, space princess._

He reached for the gun in his pocket, but his former colleagues were faster and better prepared, and another whispered bang rattled in his ears as searing pain tore through his shoulder. He jerked to the side, something hitting him with the force of a battering ram, tilting him almost off his feet as his vision lost its focus. He screamed, dropping Saeran as he tumbled to his knees, blinding pain addling his senses. It felt like someone had poured acid on his skin, like he was going to dissolve into ashes from the point of impact. He grabbed Saeran, pulling him as close as he could with his left arm. His right arm was refusing to function. He curved around his brother, trying his best to protect him as more shots zipped over his head. The car wasn’t moving. The guns were firing. The men around them were starting to advance.

It was the end. He had failed. It was over.

He heard the car doors open, and a new volley of gunshots shattered the air in the clearing, followed by grunts and screams and the thick thuds of bodies crashing into the ground. He looked up as the echoes faded, and he saw Vanderwood and Nicky leaning out of the car, weapons in hand. Nicky’s fingers were shaking around hers, her eyes wide and full of tears, her face drawn of all its color as she stared at the agents scattered on the ground, blood blooming from their knees and shoulders. His heart broke. His heart broke a thousand times as she saw her look at her own hands in horror, saw her swallow back the bile that would be rising in her throat.

He had failed in so many ways. Even if they got out of this, he would still have failed.

“Get up and get in the car, dipshit!” Vanderwood’s voice cut through his daze, and he realized that the path to the car was clear again. He hefted Saeran over his shoulder, awkwardly because his left side was not his strongest, and ran in a crouch as agents from the tree line started taking shots again. They missed, or were only trying to stall him. Since he wasn’t dead yet he could guess that Goldi wanted them alive, which would certainly come back to haunt them some day even if they managed to get out of here with their pulses intact. Nicky inched the car forward, avoiding the writhing injured. Vanderwood ran out to meet him, grabbing the back of his jacket as she threw the back door for the car open. She shoved him in and he landed in a heap with Saeran, yanking their feet out of the way of the slamming door as Vanderwood lunged back into the passenger seat.

“Drive!!” she helped Nicky shift the gears as she spun the wheel, swinging the car in the other direction with a lopsided swerve, mud scattering from the wayward tires. As soon as it was pointed towards the road she gunned the gas, and they sped away from the scene, bullets pinging into the back of the car.

“Saeyoung?” she didn’t take her eyes off the road, her hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life, her knuckles as pale as her face. “Saeyoung are you okay?”

His brother was crushing his middle, and he groaned as he shifted him to the side, settling him across the back seat as he tried to sit up. “Yes. Mostly.” He managed to grind the words out through his clenched teeth as his shoulder filled with fire. His vision wavered and he blinked, trying not to pass out, his brain threatening oblivion with each passing second. He spared a glance at his chest, and the hole in his jacket was smeared with blood, far more than he had lost from the knife wound.

Nicky’s eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, and then back on the road with a determination that was admirable and as delicate as spun glass. “That is a lot of blood. Saeyoung, that is a lot of blood.” Her breath hitched in her chest, a sob that she was trying to silence. “Oh god, I think I shot someone.” He moved so that he was sitting in the center of the backseat, perching on the edge so that he was as far forward as he could get. He propped his left arm up on the driver seat and gripped Nicky’s shoulder, leaving it there to provide as much support as he was able. She calmed considerably at the contact, though he could feel her shaking beneath his fingers.

Vanderwood sighed heavily, rolling her eyes as she turned in her seat to face him, though she spoke to Nicky. “Honey, you _definitely_ didn’t shoot anybody. I think every shot you fired found a nice home in the dirt.” He laughed, and Vanderwood knocked him upside the head, which made him wince twofold as his shoulder protested to the laughter and his head protested to her fist. “Shut up, dumb ass. She had absolutely no business being here and you know it.” She pulled open his jacket, ripping the fabric without apology and picking at his shirt.

“I know.” He winced again as she examined the wound, her frown deepening. “But I _did_ need a second person, and she was, you know, around.”

“Don’t make me hit you again. Do you have any idea what it would have felt like if she had been shot? How you would have felt?”

He met her gaze, letting the jokes fall to the wayside. “Yes.”

“No. You fucking don’t, or you never would have risked it.” She yanked the collar of his shirt until it ripped, giving her full view of the bullet’s entry point. “I hope you never learn, either.”

He sighed, glancing down at his shoulder. His arm was already going numb, and he could tell by the angle that it had shredded a tendon or two. Everything above his elbow felt like it was on fire, everything below it felt like it was frozen. He tried to clench his fist and couldn’t, and Vanderwood saw the attempt and raised her hand threateningly again.

“Don’t. Move. The. Arm.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Four years. Four goddamn years I keep your ass from getting wounded, and the second you take off you’re full of bullets and knife wounds.”

He frowned at her but chose not to respond, looking at Nicky instead. “Hey, space princess, you okay up there?”

Vanderwood started mumbling under her breath. “Pet names? Please kill me.”

“I’m okay. I mean, I wasn’t hurt. Are you? You were shot.” She stated each new item like she was reciting a grocery list, the fact that he was shot as mundane as picking up eggs. He squeezed her shoulder, rubbing little, soothing circles with his thumb.

“He’s fine. Sort of.” Vanderwood pressed her lips together, staring at him like she was weighing something in her head. “Here, take off the damn shirt, it’s not doing you any good anyhow.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she took a slow, bracing breath. “I need something to make a compress for your shoulder, unless you want to wax poetic about bleeding to death on top of your weird brother.”

“Ah, fine, stop nagging, geez.” He took off what was left of his jacket, with no small amount of assistance from Vanderwood, and then removed the last of his shirt. He shivered in the cold, and he was grateful when Nicky reached over and turned on the heater. He glanced down at Saeran, who was still out like a snuffed candle. The hate had drained from his face, and he resembled the little boy he remembered from the pictures as he slept.

“What did you give him?” Vanderwood’s voice was soft this time, dropping the act in favor of honesty, a rare choice for her.

“Chloroform.”

“How much?” she busied her hands with ripping apart his shirt, tearing it into strips and shaking them free of what dirt and dust she could.

He stared at his brother, disquiet settling in his heart. “Not _that_ much. Concussion?”

She wrapped some of the mangled cloth around his shoulder, pulling it tight. He screamed in pain before he could stop it, the pressure feeling like a hundred burning nails being hammered into his wound. Nicky jumped, and he clamped down on his tongue, forcing himself into silence as he tried to provide comfort to her through just his palm.

Vanderwood didn’t even react. “We didn’t hit him that hard. Besides, he was checked out by the doc.”

“Should I pull over? Are you okay?” Nicky’s voice was still swimming in endless waves of worry, and he could tell that even the simple task of driving was taking its toll on her. He turned to glance out the back window, but he didn’t see any sign of pursuit.

Vanderwood answered for him. “Not yet. We’ll stop and I’ll take over as soon as I finish binding this hole. You can cry over him then.”

Nicky rolled her eyes, casting a sardonic look towards the other woman. “Thanks.” She paused, looking Vanderwood up and down as best she could while keeping her attention on the road. “Are you okay, Miss Vanderwood? Were you hurt at all?”

Vanderwood snorted. “Where did you even get her? She’s like a Disney Princess.”

“Answer her question, _miss_ Vanderwood.” He bit his cheek as another layer of cloth was tied around his arm, suppressing the scream with the alternate form of pain.

“Yeah, Red. I’m fine. _I_ know how to duck.” She smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes.

“How come she’s ‘Red’? You never called me ‘Red’.”

Vanderwood rolled her eyes yet again. “Because you’re orange. Shut up.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Maybe. I can fish out the bullet later, but you aren’t going to like the sounds he makes while I do it. Alternatively, we could find a doctor, but there’s a whole lot of questions they’re gonna ask. Still, this is beyond my scope, so just know that’s gonna have to be in our plans at some point.”

“I’ll be fine.” He groaned as Vanderwood tightened the final knot. The cloth was already blotted with red, but it didn’t seem to be gushing any longer. He felt like his head was spinning, but he managed to keep himself upright by sheer force of will. “I don’t think they’re tailing us, go ahead and pull over and let Vanderwood drive.” He looked at Vanderwood, who was already turning around in her seat to face away from him. “We’re going to the cabin.”

“I figured that was where you went.” She sighed, fidgeting with her jacket. “And they aren’t tailing us yet because they don’t have to.”

“What do you mean?”

Nicky pulled the car onto the side of the road, stalling it out again instead of parking. She cursed under her breath, but he kept his attention on Vanderwood, who looked strained.

She sat up in the seat and lifted the back of her jacket and shirt, revealing a bandage just above the back of her hip. “Tracker. Stuck it in me last night, and no, I was not given a choice.”

“Dammit.” He sighed, thinking of their options. “I can probably pick up the signal and disable it. Maybe. Here, hand me the laptop.”

“Yeah, typing is gonna work out real well for you there, Mister one hand.”

“You have another plan? Because I have no intention of leaving you behind, and none of us know how to remove it.” He hadn’t meant to snap at her, but the pain in his shoulder was sapping all his patience. All he wanted to do was lay down, to curl up with his brother on one side and Nicky on the other and drift off into empty sleep. He would die, but that was beginning to sound like the easier option.

Nicky reached across the car and grabbed the laptop from the floor of the passenger seat, clutching it to her chest. “I can help, if you tell me what to type.” She looked subdued, like her worry and exhaustion were draining her life away with each passing minute, but her jaw was set and determined.

He smiled, wondering if there were ever going to be enough words to describe how much he loved her. “Get back here then, I need to hold you to make sure you’re safe, anyhow.”

Vanderwood made a disgusted noise but he ignored her in favor of watching Nicky’s face break into a smile. She got out of the car and they all shuffled positions, Vanderwood moving into the driver’s seat and Nicky curling up next to him in the back, adjusting Saeran so that he would be comfortable on his other side. She hadn’t been sitting for more than a second before he used his left hand to grab her chin, tilting her face up to kiss her. Her lips melded into his, matched perfectly, warm and giving.

It hadn’t been the last time, after all.

“I love you.” He brushed his thumb along her cheek, not wanting to let her go.

The light in her eyes returned, a single tear flitting free to wander along the side of her face. “I love you, too.” She opened the laptop and positioned it between them as Vanderwood started the car and pulled back onto the road. “Now, tell me what to do.”

They set to work, functioning as a team, while he tried to hack Vanderwood’s tracker to keep the agency off their tail long enough to reach safety.

***

Jaehee was laying against his chest, slumbering peacefully, one hand curled beneath her chin and the other flat against his stomach. It would have been blissful, a lazy afternoon nap with his brand new girlfriend, were it not for the fact that Zen couldn’t sleep. He was wide awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Nicky and Saeyoung had made it or not. Their meeting had been at noon, and it was now three in the afternoon, with not a peep out of the couple. He wondered how long they would have to wait before Jumin panicked and sent out search parties.

His phone dinged on the side table, and he angled his head over the arm of the couch to look at the screen. The notification said he had a new email, and he sighed. It was probably his director, harassing him about his missed rehearsal. He was never going to live down the one day he skipped, all so he could run off and get punched in the face by a cat-loving trust fund brat. He reached over and grabbed the phone, flipping open the email without looking at the sender.

He sucked in a panicked breath when he saw the message, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

**Hello Zen,**

**I am pleased that your career has been going so well. I** **’m sorry I haven’t been able to attend your shows of late, I have been busy.**

**In paradise, everyone will attend your shows. Your gift will be shared with the world. Art should be mandatory, don** **’t you think?**

**I** **’m looking forward to your arrival at my party.**

There was no signature, again, but the eye logo was the same, glaring at him from the top of the message. He took a screen shot, and as he did Jaehee’s phone buzzed from where it rested on the table, and he saw that she, too, had received an email. He hated to wake her, but if her message was anything like his that took priority over letting her sleep.

He brushed his finger over her forehead, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Hey, wake up sleepyhead.”

Most people would have been grumpy or sluggish as they woke up, but Jaehee roused with a smile spreading across her face. She opened her eyes and blinked up at him, a blush blooming on her cheeks. “Hello, handsome.”

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Hi.” For a moment all he did was stare at her, marveling at the strangeness of having someone that could make him smile so easily. Then he remembered why he had woken her in the first place, and his brow furrowed. “Hey, I just got another weird email, and I heard your phone go off too.”

She sat up, snatching her phone and opening it. She squinted at the screen because she wasn’t wearing her glasses, and he helpfully grabbed them from the table and passed them to her. She gave him a grateful, lopsided smile as she put them on, then put her focus on the email. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes growing wide with terror.

“Is yours creepy, too? Here, trade.” He passed her his phone and she let him take hers, her fingers barely moving as she let it go.

**Jaehee,**

**It has been awhile. I hope that Jumin has not been keeping you too busy. You deserve to have time to relax.**

**In paradise, everything will be structured so that no one does more than their fair share. You will be able to sleep again.**

**Your ambitions were always annoying to me, but I will make sure that you are happy. The strong will make the weak happy. It is our only directive.**

**I look forward to seeing you again.**

He glared at the screen, the words far crueler than those he had received in his own message. Who was sending these? Who even knew this much about any of them? This person knew their names, their jobs, their lives. Who could have that much access to information about the RFA?

His phone started ringing in Jaehee’s hands, and she passed it back to him. “It’s Jumin.”

He answered without bothering to grumble about it. “Hey.”

“Did you receive another?” Jumin’s voice sounded thin and strained, lacking its usual layers of disinterest and scorn.

“Yes. So did Jaehee. Was yours awful, too?”

“I’m posting it in the group chat. Please check in with Yoosung and then join me so that we can discuss this.” The phone clicked silent, and Zen sighed.

“We’ve been summoned to the group chat by the lord of the RFA.” He slid her phone over to her and navigated his way to the app, pulling up the chatroom. Yoosung was already there, and it looked as though he had the same idea as Jumin, a picture of an email just like there’s already sitting amidst his text.

**Yoosung,**

**Sweet boy. Has the world crushed your optimism, yet? I hope that I am not too late.**

**You won** **’t need to escape to games when paradise arrives. I will make sure your smile stays bright.**

**You were always too delicate for this reality. I** **’m making a new one for you.**

**I can** **’t wait to see you again.**

Zen shuddered reading it, hating every word. He wanted this to stop. He wanted all this to be put far behind him, and whoever this person was stuffed behind bars.

**Yoosung: WHAT IS THIS**

**Yoosung: THIS IS NOT THE SAME**

**Yoosung: Zen, ZEN! DID YOU GET ONE TOO? Please tell me it says the same thing in yours.**

Zen posted the picture of his email as Jaehee logged in and did the same.

**ZEN: If by the same you mean horribly creepy, then yeah**

**Yoosung: T_T these are scary**

**Jaehee: I don** **’t know who it could be. It bothers me that someone has this much information on us.**

**ZEN: Well, Saeran was supposedly watching a lot when he was Unknown.**

**ZEN: Maybe he told whoever he was working for.**

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

 

Jumin posted his picture immediately, and Jaehee gasped while Zen felt his heart stutter to a halt.

**Jumin,**

**You have been broken so many times by this cruel world. I wanted to come to you each time, but I could not. What I** **’ve been doing was more important.**

**She was meant for you, you know. I** **’m sorry that things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to. I had thought a musician would have been good for you.**

**Perhaps in paradise she will come to understand.**

**I had not expected her to have such an impact on all of you. I was not prepared for this. It will take time, but I think I can shape her to fit in her place. I will make sure you aren** **’t lonely in the new world.**

**I** **’ve missed you. I am very excited to see you again.**

He swallowed, trying to clear the desert from his throat. That was by far and away the worst of all the messages, and the implications were horrifying.

**Jumin: I see that your messages were not better.**

**ZEN: Um, no, yours definitely blows ours away.**

**ZEN: Who the hell is this person?**

**Yoosung: They** **’re talking about Nicky, right?**

**Jaehee: That seems to be the case.**

**Yoosung:** **“meant for you” what does that mean?**

**Jaehee: I suppose Nicky was not chosen at random.**

**ZEN: Yeah but what the hell?**

**ZEN: Choosing her to come** **…do what? What did they expect to happen?**

**ZEN: I thought this was about stealing information**

**ZEN: This seriously throws that theory into question**

**Jumin: The entire idea makes me sick.**

**Jumin: I did not want this.**

**Jumin: I would not have asked for this.**

**Jumin: If I had known I could have stopped**

**Jumin: She was here and I almost**

**Jumin: was I used?**

**Jumin: were my feelings even real?**

**Jumin: what have I done?**

**Yoosung: Hey, it isn** **’t your fault!**

“He’s very upset.” Jaehee chewed on her lower lip, her eyes full of distress. Zen didn’t need the observation to know that Jumin was probably close to another breakdown. He couldn’t blame him, either. What had happened between him and Nicky was almost disastrous, and if it hadn’t been for Saeyoung things could have turned out so much worse. Had that all been part of someone’s plan? Who could have even known what was going on?

**ZEN: Jumin, breathe.**

**ZEN: Regardless of what this person is after, what happened is already forgiven.**

**ZEN: Don** **’t question what you felt and what you feel because of this.**

**ZEN: I** **’m sure if Nicky were here, she would tell you that she doesn’t want you getting upset about it.**

**ZEN: If it was all part of somebody** **’s plan, then it didn’t work. So be glad about that, and don’t freak over what could have been.**

**Jumin: Yes.**

**Jumin: I am upset at the idea that I could have been used as a pawn.**

**Jumin: Or that someone else in this world had thought to play matchmaker with my life.**

**Jaehee: I** **’m more concerned that Nicky still seems to be a target.**

**Jaehee: That email does not make it sound like this person is friendly towards her.**

**Yoosung: Has anyone heard from them yet?**

**ZEN: No, I haven** **’t, and Jaehee is still with me so she hasn’t either.**

**Jumin: Nothing.**

**Yoosung: how long do you think a meetup should take?**

**ZEN: With a secret spy agency? Who knows.**

He wanted to get up and storm around his apartment, to smash something or scream. He wanted to get on his bike and ride across the country, speeding by the world until it didn’t feel so dark anymore.

**Jumin: I** **’ve sent everything to Saeyoung. Hopefully we will hear from him soon on the matter.**

**Yoosung: I just hope we hear from them soon at all**

**ZEN: Don** **’t talk like that.**

**ZEN: They** **’ll be back.**

**Jumin: Yes.**

Jaehee chuckled, laying back against his chest. “Never thought I would live to see the day when you two were being the optimistic ones.”

He wrapped his arm around her, glad that he had her presence as some small comfort, proof that there was still light in his life. “I just can’t think of the alternative. She has to be safe, and they have to be together. After everything they’ve been through, that’s the ending they deserve.”

“I think if she were here she would tell you that you’re a good big brother.”

He typed a quick goodbye and logged out of the chatroom, warmth spreading from his smile and out across the rest of his body. “I hope so.” _I_ _’ve tried._

They settled back down, holding each other because there wasn’t anything else they could do. Everything was on standby until Saeyoung could return, none of them capable of thinking until they knew that he and Nicky were safe. Until that time, he could only bide his time, and lose his attention in Jaehee’s eyes, which felt so much like home that he wondered how he had never seen it before.

***

He set down his phone, staring it at it like the poisonous snake that it had proven itself to be. He tried to calm himself by taking another deep breath, but there was not enough air in the world to make him feel comfortable any longer.

The idea that Nicolette had been chosen, hand selected to be delivered to him like some prize, was sickening. He would have found it sickening even if he were still convinced that he was in love with her. He would have found it sickening if he had discovered the truth from the very first seconds that he had spoken to her. The idea that she had been traded, that whatever future she would have had before had been stolen from her, all for the purpose of easing his loneliness…it made his hands shake, and he clasped them together in front of him, trying to control his thoughts.

They had failed. She had fallen in love with the person she was meant to be with. Zen was correct, and he knew that were Nicolette standing before him now she would only say the same. It was not his fault. He had done terrible things when he had been upset, but he had apologized and been forgiven. Whatever machinations had pushed them towards those dark days were not his fault.

So then why did this email bother him so?

He could have easily brushed it off as the ramblings of a madman. He could have deleted it without thinking on it further, sending the evidence to Saeyoung and washing his hands of the matter. Whatever foul plans this nefarious schemer had devised would come to naught, because he refused to play into their hands any longer. Yet, something about it nagged at his attention, prickling at the edge of his nerves. Something in the words, in the rhythm to the speech as much as the content, bothered him on a deeper level than it should have. Not simply because it painted him as a pawn, and not simply because it declared Nicolette’s agency null and void.

The problem was not the hostility, or the threat. The problem was not the mystery, or the repeated harassment. The problem was that it felt _familiar,_ and no matter how he tried to ignore it he could not abandon that instinct. He could not lay claim to the memory it stirred, but something about the emails haunted him, crawling out of some dark, forgotten part of his past to loom into the future.

Jumin brooded, watching the second hand on the clock mark the passage of time as he tried to recall when he had been spoken to like this last, wracking his brain for any clue that could help him identify this manipulative fiend. It was difficult to focus on any one thing, his thoughts split between this unsettling mystery and his fear for his friends, who even now could be facing terrible danger. They were beyond the reach of his help, though he wished dearly that it had been otherwise. He could not stomach much more waiting around while they fought so bravely. He closed his eyes, and though he had not done it in some time, he prayed.

_Please, Nicolette, Saeyoung. Return to us safely, so that we can resolve this once and for all._

 


	53. He Would be Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeran wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a festive latte so here have TWO CHAPTERS. 
> 
> In case I don't get to post another one tonight or tomorrow, happy Thanksgiving to all my US peeps. I AM VERY THANKFUL FOR YOU. 
> 
> For everyone else, happy random day in November in which I love you. I AM THANKFUL FOR YOU, TOO. 
> 
> <3

“Wow, you really don’t have a lot of upper body strength.” Vanderwood laughed at her as she tried to balance Saeran between them, careful not to jostle him too much.

“I’m a musician!” she puffed out her cheeks as Saeyoung hovered behind her, shuffling from foot to foot as he watched them carry his brother into the cabin.

“Stop teasing her about her flimsy, noodle arms Vanderwood. She can’t help it!” Saeyoung chuckled, and she took a second to glare at him over her shoulder, at which point he decided to wink at her. If she weren’t being crushed under the meager weight of his brother she would have found a way to make him pay for that cheekiness. Instead she had to settle for sticking out her tongue, which was enough of a distraction that she nearly toppled over and had to sway back in the other direction to compensate.

“Ugh, just lift, this brat is heavier than I remember.”

They carried him over to the couch and laid him on the cushions as gently as they could manage. Nicky huffed as she tried to catch her breath, looking down at Saeran’s face. She couldn’t see the storm when he was sleeping, only a serene expression, marred by bruises that she wished weren’t there. He looked a little like Saeyoung when he slept, although his face was a bit thinner. What would it be like to see his face free of anger while he was awake? She wished that she knew how to get him to that place. She wished that she could erase his bruises, both present and past, and show him how to be someone that didn’t live on rage.

She jumped as Saeyoung twined his fingers with hers, lifting her hand to place a soft kiss on the back of her knuckles. “You okay?”

Part of her wanted to break down, to fall into his arms and sob, to let her emotions pour out of her the way that they had been threatening to since she had pulled into the clearing. She had been so scared for him. She had even thought she might have lost him, and it had made her so desperate that she had just started shooting at the crowd of agents blindly. She was grateful that she hadn’t hurt anyone, but at the same time it made her feel even more afraid. If Vanderwood hadn’t been there, Saeyoung would have been killed, and she wouldn’t have been able to do a thing to stop it. She loved him so much, and she felt like she needed to do more to protect him. She couldn’t shoot, she couldn’t drive, and on the ride back it had become painfully clear that she was also not very good at hacking of any kind, either. All she had was her heart, and her music, and when his life was on the line she had no idea how to use those to save him.

“Hey, c’mere. It’s okay.” He tugged her into his chest and wrapped his left arm around her, cradling the back of her head. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting his scent wash over her, letting his heat remind her that he was alive. They weren’t safely away from the danger yet, but they had come this far. She couldn’t let her fears get the better of her.

She took a trembling breath. “Sorry I -”

“Don’t. I don’t want you to apologize, you did great today.” His words were so full of adoration that she couldn’t doubt him, and she looked up into his face. “I’m proud of you.”

The tears came then, but they didn’t sting as badly as she thought they would. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck. She was mindful of his injury, keeping herself from losing too much control, but she wanted nothing more than to sink into the bed with him and show him all the ways that she loved him. Words would never be enough. Still, they were all she had. “I love you.”

He smirked, stealing another quick kiss. “I will never get tired of hearing that.”

Vanderwood cleared her throat from the other side of the room, a collection of first aid supplies laid out on the bed as she glared at them with her hands on her hips. “If you’re done being completely gross, we should get started on that arm.”

Saeyoung frowned, looking back down at her. “I don’t want you to see this.”

“I want to be there for you.” She grabbed his hand, holding tightly as his gaze softened.

“You are. I know you are, I know you’ll be right here waiting for me when it’s over. But I’ve seen this done to other people, and I don’t want to put you through it.” He kissed her again, softly, a pleading brush of his lips against hers. “Please, for my sake, will you wait out here in case Saeran wakes up?”

She didn’t want to let him out of her sight ever again, but she also knew that was unreasonable. She nodded, unable to push enough air out of her throat to speak. His smile lit up his face, a sigh of relief working its way past his lips. He turned, letting her go to stroll across the room to Vanderwood, and they started bickering about tending to him in the bathroom or on the bed. Eventually he won out, and they retreated into the small room and shut the door. She stood in the middle of the resulting quiet, one hand wrapped across her chest, her fingers gripping her other arm.

She shuffled to the chair across from the couch and sat, perched on the edge like a snowbound dove, imagining that the cold would numb her so that she wouldn’t feel anything for awhile. She heard a muffled scream from the other side of the bathroom door and she stared at the floor, her hands shaking as they gripped the edge of the chair. She could feel the tears welling behind her eyes, but they wouldn’t fall. All they did was hang there, blurring her vision, filling her gaze with heat. She wanted to help. To help someone, anyone, but there was nothing she could do. She was worthless.

“It’s you.”

***

It had taken a monumental effort to open his eyes, the pain in his head careening around like flies above a rotting corpse. When he blinked away the fog he saw her sitting across from him, gaping at the floor, the tension in her face speaking volumes. She was afraid again. Or maybe sad. He wasn’t sure if there was a difference.

“It’s you.”

She jumped when he spoke, jolting out of her own head and lifting her gaze to stare at him. Her eyes did that strange thing again, where they seemed to glow. He wished that he knew why they did that. He sat up, looking at his surroundings, and he realized that they must have failed. He was not home. He had not been delivered to the Savior triumphant with his prize. His bones ached, his veins empty of his medicine, the air in his lungs tasted of acid and bile. As he tried to keep his head upright the room tilted, and he had to close his eyes to keep from being sick.

“Are you alright?” she meant it. She wanted to know. She was too kind.

A strangled cry filtered through a door behind him, and he glanced at it, realizing that he was alone in the room with her and that the others were behind the threshold, barred from them. His brother was screaming. That was good. He smiled, because it made him feel better that the sounds of his own pain were pouring from the throat of his twin, but when he looked back at Nicolette she looked broken. She stared at the bathroom like monsters were scrabbling behind the door, threatening to rip her apart. It stole his joy, snatching it from his fingers and dashing it against the ground.

“Are you afraid?”

She blinked at him, chewing on her lower lip. “Of you? No.”

He shook his head, then regretted it as the pain rattled against his skull. “No, for him?”

“Yes.”

He sneered, clenching his fingers. She had given in to his lies. He would hurt her too, tear her to pieces and leave her gasping on the ground. He would drive her to emptiness, just like he had with their childhood. Sweet promises precluded bitter betrayals. “I suppose you want to tell me that he’s a good, pure person. That I should forgive him for all his crimes.” He snarled the words, and he couldn’t look at her when he spoke. He remembered once when his mother had ironed his hands, and the heat in his throat felt like that. Searing, smelling of burning skin, poison waiting to be spewed and swallowed.

“Would it help?”

He looked up at her, surprised at the question. He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

She winced as another scream slipped under the closed door, then she forced herself to look at him and shrugged. “Then I won’t.”

He didn’t understand. She was afraid for Saeyoung, skittering away from his unseen pain like ants from the rain, but she wasn’t going to defend him. No lectures, no hours of convincing. No violent denials that crushed the inferior opinions. That was not how disagreements had been dealt with in his life up to this point. “Why?” he had to know. He had to understand. Was it because there was light in her eyes? Was it because the lies burned against her tongue?

She sighed. “Because hearing it from me wouldn’t make you more likely to believe it. You have to come to that conclusion yourself, on your own time.”

“Oh.” It felt like a stupid response. He felt inadequate speaking with her. Like he lacked the fundamental tools to communicate properly. He was a child, crying in the mud and praying for death, and she was the night sky watching him from above. The stars held meaning, messages to give him guidance, but he couldn’t read them, and so he was crushed in the dark. “I hate him.”

She flinched, this time from his words, and he regretted them. “I know.”

“Then why are you talking to me? Why are you out here while he’s in there?”

She tilted her head, her hair falling to the side like a long, red curtain. It wasn’t like his hair used to be. It wasn’t like his brother’s. It was big, and wavy, and coiled around her shoulder like a blanket. Was it warm?

“Do you want the easy answer, or the honest answer?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes.”

His brother’s voice drifted through the wood again, strained and full of muffled pain. It sent a shiver down his spine, and it made her eyes grow wide, her pupils dilated and expanding to swallow the green. Her fingers shook, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted her to stop making that face.

“Both!” he blurted, wanting her voice and not her fear. “Both answers. I want both.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and he hated it. “Alright. The easy answer would be to say I’m talking to you because I want to, because I was worried about you. The honest answer is that I’m out here because he didn’t want me to watch Vanderwood dig a bullet out of his arm, and neither of us wanted you to be alone when you woke up. I suppose both are true, but one is more true.” She swallowed, and he watched the muscles of her throat move as she did. It reminded him of drinking, and that reminded him of medicine, and that made him feel small and thirsty.

He tore his eyes away from her gaze, trying to find something less complicated to look at. He would have stared at the floor, but he stopped halfway down the path, looking at her arm where her sleeve had shifted up. Bright purple marks were smeared across her wrist, dots of ink and paint dabbed beneath her skin. A bruise. A collection of broken vessels that had released blood into the cells of her flesh, created when painful force was applied to the limb. Tender, sore, aching long after the trauma had completed. He had held more bruises than friends, more marks than smiles, so he knew them well. This was the first time he had caused them.

“I hurt you.” He nodded his head at her wrist, and her cheeks flushed as she pulled her sleeve back down.

“Yes.” She didn’t lie. He liked that.

“I’m…sorry.” He was shocked to speak the words and realize that he meant them. He wasn’t sure what that meant. Their bodies were merely vessels, to be broken as needed to accomplish the tasks that must be done. The Savior taught him that wounds of the flesh built strength of the mind. He became stronger with each new pain. That was how he had survived his mother. That was how he had gained the strength to become the Savior’s champion. That was how he could take the highest doses of the medicine, to grow fierce and pious. His throat felt empty, and he coughed.

“I know.” She smiled, and this time it did reach her eyes, and he liked that better.

“How?” how could she know things he hadn’t even known himself? Why did he feel more real when she looked at him?

She held up her wrist, letting the sleeve fall away again so they could both look at it. “Because people don’t always mean the things they do. I don’t think you meant this.”

That was silly. “I would have killed you.”

She lowered her arm, letting it rest in her lap. “To take me to paradise?”

“Yes.”

“Because you believe it’s better than this world?”

“Yes. Paradise is not on this world yet.”

She sat back in the chair, wrapping her arms across her stomach and looking at him with a gaze that saw more than what he was. He felt opened, pried apart at the seams like a rag doll, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He didn’t mind her seeing.

“I disagree.” Her words were even, and still warm, and he didn’t understand the sentiment attached to that value. There was an error in the code. Disagreement was harsh, brittle, shredding connections. The way she spoke, it felt like she was making them, building bridges across oceans, tying bonds with silk instead of chains. “I think that the only paradise we will ever have is the one we make with each other. It’s hard sometimes, but it can be worth it.” She glanced at the door, which was now silent, and he was thankful because he didn’t want her to stop talking. “However, I know that when you wanted to send me to your paradise, you were trying to do something good, in your own way. So, while I wouldn’t want to go, and I would rather see you find another way, I still know that you didn’t want to hurt me. You were trying to save me.”

_To save you._ “Yes.” He breathed the word around shrinking lungs. He assented, but he didn’t understand it. He agreed, but he didn’t comprehend why. It was contradictory. Fire and ice, night and day. The two ideas did not line up, yet when she said as much he felt like they always had. There couldn’t be two points, though. There could only be one right answer. There was only one paradise. There could not be multiples of a singular thing. It was paradise for all, or chaos for all.

His chest felt tight, his bones aching as his head throbbed. He felt like his whole body was pulsing, jumping with each beat of his heart. He was a spring, stretching further and further, the metal in the middle brittle and burned. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to snap. He couldn’t find air.

“I would like to go outside. I need air.” He stood, letting the world spin around him.

“Okay. Would you like some company? I’m happy to go with you.” Her eyes were quiet but her bruises were screaming at him. He needed the the sky. He needed the whole sky, empty and grey, absent of anything that could disturb him.

“No.” He turned, but there were more words that perched at the edge of his tongue, little birds that needed to be free of him or they would peck his eyes out. “Thank you, but I would like to be alone for a minute.”

“I’ll be here, if you need me.”

Would she? He rushed to the door, throwing it open and stepping out on the small porch, walking past the awning so that he could look up at the sky. The grey was running with deeper colors as the sun sank away from the world, its path out of sight behind the gloom. He drank it in, letting the billowing void fill him. He was wind, brushing against the empty, kissing the blank canvas of the heavens. Would she be there, if he needed her?

_“Saeran, tell me what is true.” Her hood covered her face, but he felt her gaze. It burned like the sun._

_“That you love me. That you saved me.” His fingers twitched. He wanted to touch her, to feel if she was as warm as her eyes. Would she burn? So bright._

_She laughed, quietly, mirthlessly. It was the still waters of a pond with a single ripple coursing through the middle._ _“Yes. That is what’s true. Do not ever forget it.”_

_He looked at the windows open on his screen, the code he had been working on for weeks spread out before him. They had picked the person, and he looked at her picture. The Savior had let him pick, and he was so proud. It had taken him a long time to find her, but he was glad he did. He had seen the filthy things the world had said about her. He wanted her to find paradise. She deserved it. She deserved to find happiness, just like him._

_“What a lonely little dove.” The Savior was leaning over his shoulder, looking at the screen. “Do you think they’ve clipped her wings, or shall we do that?” he didn’t answer, because he knew whatever he said would not matter. Her words were what carried weight. He was nothing beneath their golden shine.  “Jumin will like her, I think.” She reached forward, and traced her fingers over the other pictures, touching each of their faces with gentle grace. Then she pulled back, abrupt and cold, her gaze tilted down at him as though she wanted him to be smaller. He hunched his shoulders, trying to comply. “Begin.” She turned to walk away, and he swiveled his chair around._

_“You aren’t going to stay?”_

_She paused at the door, her hand on the frame._ _“No.”_

_“What if I need your guidance?”_

_She laughed, and it felt like shattered glass, hard and sharp and sparkling._ _“If you need my guidance for this, then you would already be unworthy of it.”_

_Then she was gone, and he returned to his task, heart pounding in his chest. He would be worthy, then. He would make himself so worthy._

The sky was not big enough to hold his memories, so he closed his eyes and imagined sending them away, shooting through the clouds and up past the earth, breaking into empty space like comets of forgotten time. The stars could hold them. They could be lost there, never to return. He didn’t want them anymore. They made him feel strange. They made him feel lonely.

He missed the Savior. She loved him. She made him stronger. She had saved him from his mother when she would have seen him dead. She had his medicine.

He rifled through his pockets, the process slow because he was trembling violently, upset by the past and the lack of hope in his veins. He finally found what he was looking for, a small flip phone that had been tucked in the folds of his shirt. He could make it be over soon. He could stop the spinning and the confusion. He could make them come back and bring them all to paradise, and the he could get his revenge and stop thinking about all of this. Hazel eyes full of pain filled his memory, and he ignored it. She would forget, she would learn to forget his lies and then she wouldn’t be in pain anymore. He pried the phone open and dialed the only number he knew, the only number that mattered.

The number of salvation.


	54. Her Words Were Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which he couldn't stop loving her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is small, but it probably packs a bit of a punch so I'm posting it as is. Plus this is the third one today so no one can complain about this one having a small word count XD

She sat on a golden throne. He didn’t need his eyes to know that it was golden, or that she had placed herself in the center of this world like a brilliant queen. Everything that she wore, everything that she spoke of, all of it was designed to make her glow. She worked so hard to shine, because her heart was so shrouded in darkness that she could no longer see any light, not even her own. He had let the flames in her soul gutter and die. They had been entrusted to him, and he had blown them out with desperate gasps that had never been enough to give either of them air.

“Holy one, we have recruited an additional eighteen disciples. Would you like to inspect them for their worth?” the man bowed before her, his thick robes rustling against the ground. V couldn’t see them. He would not have been able to even if he had his sight, because his eyes were riveted to the point directly below his nose. He was doubled over, prostrated in a frozen pose of worship, his legs folded beneath him and his palms pressed against the floor. She had commanded him bow, penance for crimes uncountable, and he had done as she willed. His knees felt like they were bruised and bleeding from kneeling on them for hours on the tiled marble. After the first hour there had been pain, then after that numbness from the cold seeping into his flesh, the room icier than the mountaintops. Eventually that had faded, and now he couldn’t remember what it had felt like to not be in agony. It felt like his bones had splintered, poking through his skin one at a time, a bed of needles that he would never rise from.

He had never once complained.

“No, administer the medicine until they are prepared. Assign them where it is needed.” He heard her flick her fingers at her servants, sending them away. She tapped her nails against the gilded arm of her chair as they shuffled out of the room, the massive doors squeaking as they swung open, banging loudly when they slammed closed.

She sighed, and he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sound of her breath. She would let him die here, on the barren floor, making him pay for his sins with each agonizing minute. He deserved it. Every bit. He had failed her so tremendously that there were no words to explain it. His love had been a curse, a sickness, spreading ichor from his own veins and out into the world. It had swallowed her, drowning her beneath the weight of it, and every time he had kissed her he had prayed that he was giving her life, breathing new hope back into her lungs. In the end, he had only been draining her dry.

“You have been very quiet.” She rose from her chair, taking a few swinging steps towards him. He didn’t dare to move, didn’t so much as flinch, holding his breath. It was folly to hope, but he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop the little spark that whispered questions of fate and love, dancing in the back of his head. What if this had worked? What if he had gotten through to her? She stepped closer, her sandal flapping against her foot. “Have you nothing left to say? Have you no pretty words to sway my gentle heart?”

He gave her silence, because he was out of pretty words.

“I thought as much.” She laughed, and it was an awful sound. “You know, you were my inspiration. Your love convinced me that paradise was possible.” She walked closer, taking lazy steps around him, prowling like a predator. “I didn’t expect you to abandon it, but that, too, was a gift. The pain made me realize that ruthless measures would be the only thing to heal this world.”

Her words were poison to him, thick and dripping with everything that was wrong with them both. Whenever she spoke he could smell the turpentine again, smashing into his eyes as she screamed about his pictures being lies. She wasn’t screaming anymore, but he would have preferred it. Now she was quiet, reserved, deadened of all the things that used to make her blaze like fire. She was still so bright, but she couldn’t see it. She was still so perfect, but she denied it every minute.

He had come here to kill her, but he couldn’t. He had thought that he would put an end to the charade, put an end to her eternal misery, tear out the blackness in her heart by crushing the wind from her lungs, but when he heard her voice all his resolve had snapped. He was a brittle man, twigs piled beneath the autumn leaves, and her presence broke him every time. It didn’t matter how sick she got, it didn’t matter how much harm she had done. He still loved her. Even broken, even festering, even rotting to the core and lashing out until everyone around her succumbed to the same, she was still the only woman that had ever moved his soul. He would let her drag him to hell if it eased any of her pain, and while he could never stop loving her, he hated himself for it. All the years that he had fought against it, and now he was so willing to give in. He was fickle, a failure so far past redemption that the word had lost all meaning.  The scars he had left on their friends were far deeper than the ones in the tissue of his eyes, and he deserved all the pain in the world as retribution.

The phone in her pocket chimed, an unholy sound in the hushed room. She stopped her pacing and reached into her pocket, pausing for only a second before she answered.

“Saeran, my pet. Would you care to explain where you’ve been?”

His shoulders tensed as he heard the voice filter through from the other end of the line, just loud enough that he could make out the words. “I’ve been taken to a cabin in the woods. They’re holding me here. I miss you.”

“Where, love? Do you know where?”

“I can send coordinates. Will you come get me? I’m so lonely.”

“Of course, sweetness. Send the coordinates, and I shall deliver you to salvation. How many are with you?”

There was a loud sniffle from the other end of the line. “The filthy traitor, some woman that he knows, and the chosen girl.”

She drew in a deep, sharp breath. “She’s with you?”

“Yes, my holy one. She’s been deceived by the traitor’s lies.”

He heard her crack her knuckles, the rustle of her robes telling him that she was shaking. “Good. I will bring them all in. I would like a word with her.”

“She is good. I believe she deserves paradise.”

 _“What?”_ her voice was ice, frozen venom that was ready to be jammed in the heart of a syringe. “Saeran, tell me what’s true.” The order was severe, demanding unquestioning obedience.

“Um…that - that you love me. That you saved me.” His words stuttered, the shock in his voice plain even across the distance.

“Who saved you?”

“You!”

“Who has been the _only one_ who has ever loved you?” she was snarling into the phone, her rage unsurpassed by any roaring clap of thunder, her fury a storm that could not be tamed by the gentle sky.

“You! Only you!” it was a sob, panicked and confused. “I’m sorry that I made you angry, I don’t understand…”

“Do not presume to make judgments on those worthy of _my_ paradise. Send the coordinates and wait for our people to arrive. Do not breathe a word of this to anyone in that cabin.” She disconnected the call and placed the phone back in her pocket. She turned to walk away, and now he knew he couldn’t hold his silence.

“Let me go.” He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, trying to see her, even if it would only be her silhouette shaded in the middle of the golden palace that she had built with hate. If he went then he could control it, if he went then maybe he could stop something worse from happening. If he went he could at least be there to ensure the people he loved weren’t hurt. _How have I fallen so low? How have things strayed so far from where they ever should have been?_

“You?”

“Yes. Let me bring them in.”

She chuckled, and it was pure darkness trickling from her throat. “Why would I consider such an outlandish suggestion?”

“To prove my loyalty to you. I wouldn’t go alone. You can send all the disciples that you wish with me. Even if I betray you, Saeran will be able to command your people and ensure that I am brought to justice. You only stand to gain trust in my devotion to you.”

He swallowed as she walked back, standing directly over him. “Do you think you will suffer, when you see them? Do you think it will darken your shriveled heart to see them bound by my chains?”

“I will do whatever you would wish of me. I only ever seek to please you.”

“You always had a taste for pain. Very well, it will amuse me to see the look on your face when you return. Get off your knees and crawl away to do something useful, worm.”

She laughed as she watched him try to stand, offering no assistance, and he let the astounding pain remind him of his burdens. His failures. The love that he had betrayed in favor of the one that would kill him. When he was standing, his knees swollen and screaming, she finally summoned her people, providing the coordinates to where Saeran and Saeyoung were staying.

He left to act his part in the rest of the grand play, her puppetry poised to destroy them all. God help him, even now he couldn’t stop himself from loving her.


	55. Meet You There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which almost everybody falls asleep.

It felt like she had been waiting for hours, although based on the clock on her phone it had only been forty-five minutes since Saeran had stepped outside and Saeyoung had fallen silent. She had spent the time pacing the length of the room, occasionally peering out the window to check on the smaller twin. Every time she looked he was just staring up at the sky, like he longed to grow wings and sail away. She wished she could understand what had happened to him. Maybe if she did then she could help.

She hadn’t had the energy to check if there were any messages in the RFA. She knew that she should update them, but she couldn’t bring herself to say a single word until she knew if Saeyoung was okay. Otherwise she wouldn’t even begin to know what to tell them. Secrets were wrong, but she could not physically bring herself to explain that he had been shot and was just screaming in the bathroom while Saeran said he hated him. It was too much darkness, and until she knew what the outcome would be she didn’t have the strength to speak of it, not even through text.

The door to the bathroom opened and she spun around, tears springing to her eyes as Vanderwood and Saeyoung stepped out. His hair was skewed across his brow, his skin pale and drawn, but he found the strength to flash her a smile. Her feet lifted of their own accord as she ran to him, sinking into his waiting embrace as he wrapped his left arm around her. His right arm was bent at the elbow, held to his chest with a sling of gauze, the bandages extending up and around his shoulder to envelope him in a thick pillow of white. She pressed her cheek against his bare chest, away from the dressing, and let herself listen to his heartbeat.

“Don’t cry, space princess. It’s okay, I’m fine, see?” he moved his right arm a fraction of an inch, but she could tell his fingers weren’t doing what they were supposed to do, and that even the small action had taken monumental effort.

She looked up at him, blinking away her tears. “I’m so glad you’re alive.” He smiled, and she basked in it for a moment before she turned and looked at Vanderwood. “Thank you. For helping him. And for coming with us.”

The woman rolled her eyes, an expression she seemed to be very fond of. “Yeah, yeah. Save your gratitude for someone that needs it, Red.” Nicky smiled at her, and Vanderwood smiled back, and she was so grateful that their plan to save her along with Saeran had worked.

Saeyoung’s grip around her tightened, his eyes on the couch. “Where’s Saeran?”

“He’s out on the porch. He said he needed some air. He’s been out there for an hour or so, but I’ve been checking on him.”

He smiled down at her so that his cheeks rose. “Thank you.”

Vanderwood sighed. “Why don’t you two idiots go get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on the twitchy one.”

“I’m actually too tired to argue.” He turned them both towards the bed in the corner, taking a few steps and talking over his shoulder to his partner. “We’re gonna need to find a better fix for your tracker in the morning, I don’t think the blocker we wrote in the car is going to give us much more than another twelve hours or so of coverage.”

“Yeah, worry about it in the morning. Sleep, or I’ll knock your ass out and make you sleep.”

“Love you, Vandy.”

“Shut up.”

Nicky chuckled as she slipped out of Saeyoung’s grasp to peel back the covers on the bed, helping him get settled against the pillows before she crawled in next to him. His right arm was useless, but he still pulled her close with his left, holding her tightly and taking long, slow breaths. Now that she was laying down, warm and comfortable, she realized just how exhausted she was, and she could feel her eyelids growing heavy.

“Did he say anything when he woke up?” the tremble to his voice pulled her from the edge of sleep, and she looked up into his face, his expression crumbling beneath the weight of the worry for his brother.

“We talked for a bit. I think…I think he was trying to distract me from…from your pain.”

He smiled, small and sad. “That was kind of him. It’s good to know he doesn’t hate you, at least. Although I don’t see how anybody could.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He thinks he does, but he doesn’t know who you are. He has this idea in his head, but it’s wrong.” She placed her palm over his heart, feeling it beat and wishing that she could write a song to seal the cracks she knew were making it break. “Give him time. We don’t know what he’s been through, but I can tell it will take time to undo whatever damage it caused. Be patient. Be there for him, but don’t smother him. He’ll come around.”

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “You’re right. As always.”

“I am not always right.” She giggled as he smirked, but she didn’t miss the small wince that he made as he shifted his weight on the bed. “Are you in pain?”

He looked at her for a long time before he answered, and she could tell that he was reluctant to admit what she already knew was the truth. “Yes.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she knew that there wasn’t, because she wasn’t a doctor and she didn’t have any painkillers, but she hoped that at least the offer could provide him some comfort.

“Yes. Keep loving me.” He sounded more desperate than she had expected, and when he kissed her it took her breath away with how much emotion could be conveyed with the simple brush of their lips.

“There is no universe where I wouldn’t love you.”

He sighed, his breath skirting across her face and stirring the edges of her hair. She laid back down against his chest, letting the heaviness of the night drag her back towards sleep.

“We should really give everyone an update.” She spoke the sentiment, but she didn’t reach for her phone, her eyes slipping closed.

“You’re too tired. I’m too tired. It can wait until morning.” He mumbled the response, his voice husky with exhaustion. She liked it when it sounded like that; it reminded her of well seasoned cellos playing warm sonatas beneath the stars.

“Good point.”

“Good night, my beautiful space princess.” He kissed the top of her head again, a sleepy peck that made her feel like her whole body was tingling.

She was already half asleep, already slipping into the deep bliss of the night. “Let’s dream of marrying on the space station.”

“Okay. Meet you there.”

Then they drifted off together, slipping into dreams where they filled the universe with the light of their love.

***

Vanderwood took one last look at the deeply asleep couple before she opened the door, stepping out on the porch and walking over to lean against the railing. The thin, gangly kid glanced at her, but then returned his eyes to the sky, his gaze darting back and forth from nothing to emptiness, as though he was searching for something. He’d been out here for hours, just staring at the sky as the grey had turned to black, night creeping up on them as the sun disappeared. She’d watched him carefully for awhile, but he made no attempts to escape or do anything else stupid, so she didn’t feel like she needed to bother him. Let him have his breakdown. The poor kid had probably earned it. Nobody got that fucked up all by themselves, and whatever he had been through had done a number on him.

“You want a jacket or something?” she looked him over, noticing that he was shivering. He was only in a flimsy hoodie, a loose tank top underneath.

He didn’t look at her. “No.”

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

He didn’t seem to be lying, so she figured that was probably what he enjoyed so much about the big empty above his head. A whole lot of blank darkness, hiding the complicated stars so that he could feel peace.

_“Can you see the sky?”_

_She laughed, tipping her head back and letting the mirth roll through her, stopping what she was doing as her sides cramped._ _“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”_

_He blushed, and she hated how attractive it made him._ _“What?”_

_“My hand is halfway down your pants, and you wanna talk about the sky?”_

_“Well, no, I mean…” he leaned forward, sliding his hands along her waist until they came to rest on her ass. “Humor me, okay? Just, look up at the sky.”_

_She rolled her eyes and dipped her head down, dragging her teeth across the nape of his neck._ _“I don’t want to look at the sky.”_

_He raised one of his hands to cup her chin, pulling her face up to his. His kisses always had a burn to them, like fire smoldering on the beach, sizzling as the spray from the waves clashed with the embers. She didn_ _’t understand how big and bright love could feel until he had kissed her for the hundredth time and promised never to leave. It was stupid, but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted it, all of it._

_He pulled away, pressing his lips to her ear._ _“Mary, look at the stars.”_

_He trailed his kisses down along her neck, and she arched her head back instinctively. Her eyes wanted to flutter closed, but she kept them open, staring at the stars as her lover had asked. There were so many. The base was far outside of town, and they were far away from even that, standing in the middle of a copse of trees that sheltered them from the world. The lack of lights anywhere near them made the stars seem that much brighter, smattering across the blackness like spilled diamonds._

_“They’re so bright.” She whispered the words around her stuttering breath as his hand dipped below the waistband of her pants._

_“Yes.” He mumbled his words against her throat, scorching her skin with their meaning. “They’re bright, and endless, and no matter how dark it gets they are always there. Like my love for you.”_

_She wanted to laugh at him but she couldn_ _’t, because she felt the same. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she had found that pivotal, earth shattering love that changed the way she saw the world. He was a sentimental fool, but she loved every bit of him. If he wanted to love her like the stars, then she would let him._

_“I love you, too.”_

_He stopped, pulling back to look at her face, his eyes shining with shock._ _“What?”_

_She smirked, even as she felt a blush creep across her cheeks._ _“I said I love you.”_

_“You’ve never said that before.” His fingers shook, and so she reached out and grabbed his hand, twining them together. It was saccharine, too sweet for her usual tastes by half, but it felt right._

_“I know. But it’s true.”_

_He kissed her then, and their fire burned brighter, exploding into new brilliance as they shared each other. She loved him, she had for some time, and the admission seemed to set them free._

“Who was agent Klein?”

The kid’s question startled her out of the memory, and she blinked several times to clear the tears from her eyes. “Why do you care?”

He still wasn’t looking at her, just staring at the sky and shivering. “Saeyoung mentioned him, and you changed.”

“He was our old partner.” She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him carefully. He seemed different now than he had when they had been standing in the clearing. Like his slumber had cleared his mind. Or maybe he was just drinking the black nothing from above, and as it filled him he let go of his anger.

“Did he go to paradise?”

“He was blown up. Job gone bad because we had shit intel, and he paid the price. If you call that paradise, then yeah.” She wanted to smoke, but she resisted the urge. She didn’t want to do it with all these stupid kids around.

He turned to look at her, the livid bruises on his face like shadows in the darkness. “That’s sad.”

“No shit.” What a weird kid. His eyes seemed to be drooping, and she realized he must be exhausted, even though he had slept for about five hours in the middle of the day. They had gone through a lot, and he had been through more before that, the last few days dragging on for all of them. She could see him swaying on his feet now that she was looking for it, and she rolled her eyes, walking forward to take his elbow. “C’mon, you need to sleep.”

He flinched away from her, like a wounded animal, until he realized what she had said and forced himself to relax. “Okay.”

“Hey, listen…” she bit her lip, trying to figure out what it was she needed to say and how she wanted to say it. “I’m sorry. That I was shitty to you, when I thought you were Seven. Or Saeyoung, or whatever. Sorry about your face.”

He blinked, his eyes luminously blue like a snowy owl’s. “Okay.”

It wasn’t forgiveness, but from a kid this fucked up she supposed it was a big improvement over the vitriol. She took his arm gently, leading him inside and setting him down on the couch. He laid down, facing the cushions and curling in on himself. He looked a lot younger, huddled and shivering like that, and she felt sorry for him. Life had done shitty things to her, but she had always found a way to fight through it. When the world punched down she had punched right back. This kid didn’t have the bones for it, and she had a feeling that he had learned to see the punches as gifts, loving them in place of things that would have made more sense. Violence had filled his whole world, until eventually he had become it, letting it consume him rather than kill him.

She thought of all those moments when Seven had stared at the ground with that look in his eyes, the one where she could see the ghosts from his past lurking in the shadows of his gaze. Were the demons that chased him the same ones that had destroyed his brother? Were they the same ones that had driven Seven to join a death squad before he had even been old enough to have a girlfriend? She thought of all the times Seven had made her laugh, even when she thought she might never be able to laugh again. She thought about all the times he had been in pain and she couldn’t understand why. All the times where he had been happy, or stupid, or brave, or scared. Shit, she had been with him for years, and Klein had managed to convince her that he was their responsibility. She had forgotten that when he died, or she had tried to, but she had never been able to walk away from him, even when Goldi had offered her different partners. Saeran was a part of that now, too. They were brothers, and whatever shitty luck Seven had growing up had obviously affected the smaller one, too.

She wanted to find whoever had hurt them so badly and rip their spine out of their neck.

She walked across the room, opening a small dresser and pulling out one of the extra blankets. She made her way back to the couch and tossed it over the kid’s shoulders, pulling the edge so that it covered all of him. He was already asleep, his face more relaxed than it ever was when he was awake. Klein would have been hopelessly obsessed with protecting him. He was such a scrawny little runt, and the idiot had always had a soft spot for the underdog.

_Klein._ After all this time, it looked like they might make it. They had finally found a way out of the agency, a way to escape the business of death and live the life they had always talked about. Except he wasn’t there to see it happen, and so she couldn’t bring herself to celebrate. He was supposed to be with her, until the end, and even after that. He had promised her forever, but she had only been able to take a short time. Forever was a lot shorter than the books said.

She couldn’t be with him, and she couldn’t change what happened, but she could still honor his memory. She could still do what he would have wanted her to do, and she could protect these boys from whatever it was the world would throw at them. She closed her eyes, and she could see the smile on his face when she told him, see the pride in his eyes as he looked at her. She could almost taste the love that would be on his lips as he kissed her and told her that he agreed. If she wiped the rest of her thoughts away, and let her imagination run wild, it was almost like he was really there, and she had never been without him at all.

_I_ _’m sorry I got so lost without you, but I’ll do better now. I still love you, you sentimental fool._


	56. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which salvation arrives and damns them all.

The door didn’t open, it exploded.

She sat up in bed, a scream of shock tearing out of her throat as she looked at the front of the cabin, daylight streaming in along with people in robes that crushed the splinters of the wood beneath their feet. She had been dreaming of the stars, and now the sun had come to blind her, harsh and brilliant. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening. The covers were still warm from her body pressed against Saeyoung’s, so how could her blood feel so cold in her veins? There were so many people, swelling into the room like a sea of black and velvet, encroaching on their peace and shattering it. The intruders grabbed Vanderwood first as she tried to leap off the chair she had been sleeping in, smashing her in the face with the butt of a gun when she tried to struggle. Her arms went limp, her eyes half closed as she swayed in the clutches of their captors. They started dragging her towards the door and Nicky cried out again, extending her hand as though she could pull her back to safety.

Saeyoung wrapped his arm around her waist, trying to keep hold of her with frantic intensity, but they were already surrounded by several cloaked figures. It was happening so fast, everything tumbling through time at a pace she couldn’t keep up with, and yet each movement was slow and clear before her eyes. Someone had tilted the hourglass to the side, and the sands were running through the cracks, spilling on the floor so that minutes no longer made sense and seconds lasted an eternity. Rough hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled them apart, yanking her from the bed with savage force. She elbowed someone in the ribs, breaking free and reaching for Saeyoung as he was dragged away from the other side. He screamed when his shoulder was jostled, and her heart was pounding so fast that she couldn’t breathe. She had to help him, she had to do something, but the grips on her arms were like vices, clamping down hard enough that she felt it through her skin and against her bones.

“Stop!” it was a sob more than it was a command, and she was shaking as she struggled to break free of their captors. “You’re hurting him!”

Saeyoung tried to kick at their assailants, and his reward was a vicious punch in the stomach, his eyes going wide as he doubled over, gasping in pain. She looked around the room, desperate to understand what was happening, desperate to find some way to make it all stop. Saeran was standing in the center, unmolested by their intruders, his eyes on his brother with a look of exultation on his face. Another sob worked its way out of her chest as she heard Saeyoung scream again, and she closed her eyes as they filled with searing tears.

“Stop struggling.” One of the figures holding Saeyoung smashed the handle of a knife into his temple, and she watched him stumble to his knees, his jaw going slack. Saeran smiled, scaring her more than she had ever been frightened before. The storm was roaring inside of him, and she could hear its thunder as he reveled in his brother’s pain. _Don_ _’t, don’t let the shadows win._

“Saeran, please,” she was crying, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe, tried to think, tried to will this awful nightmare to go away, “please make them stop hurting him.”

Saeran looked at her as though he had forgotten she was there, and the smile fell from his face as his eyes met hers. He looked confused, his gaze darting back and forth between her and his brother. His fingers flew to the string on the collar of his jacket, tugging at it while he stood frozen in his own turmoil. He was shaking, tumultuous and fragile, a bead of dew tossed in the wind at the edge of a spider’s web. He could fall on either side of the path, and she wanted to grab his hand and beg him to find the light, to run from the storm and the wind, to come back to them so that they could show him the way.

One of the people holding her grabbed her wrist, pressing down on the still tender bruises with enough force to make her scream. She tried to jerk away but she couldn’t, and they twisted harder so that she felt like her hand would pop off. “Shut up, girl.” They laughed as she screamed again, her muscles spraining as her hand was jerked to the side, her upper arm going numb as the circulation was compromised.

“Enough!” Saeran had crossed the room, and he pried the horrible fingers off her arm, holding them away. “Do not harm them. The Savior will want to pass her own judgment.”

She looked into his face, his eyes blue and shimmering, and she saw an apology there beneath the confusion and the fear. “Saeran…why?”

Her words wounded him. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way his gaze shined brighter. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t understand how he could ally himself with people who were so violent. _It doesn_ _’t have to be this way._

“The Savior loves me. The Savior saved me.” His voice was flat, empty. He withdrew from her, stepping away and letting the people holding her start dragging her towards the door. She looked back at Saeyoung, blinking as he tried to hold onto his consciousness, his pupils dilated so that the gold in his eyes was almost gone, an eclipse of fear and panic.

The thump of something metallic striking wood echoed from the front of the room, and they all turned. She stared at a man with ice hair and dark glasses, leaning on a cane as he looked around the room. She realized that she recognized him, and her heart broke, the cracks lining her soul running deeper and more jagged. There was no aid for this, no way to repair the damage that this twist of fate would cause. If she lived, it would be to see the hearts of everyone she loved break even further, one man tearing them to pieces like tissue paper. This was going to hurt everyone she knew so much, and she couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand the fact that the man who had offered her a home and a job was now looking at them placidly as they were kidnapped by cultists.

“You son of a bitch.” Saeyoung’s voice was filled with so much hatred, and she closed her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes. “How could you? _How could you?!_ _”_ he tried to break away again, his muscles straining, his fingers curled into fists. “I’ll kill you!” V didn’t say anything, but his shoulders dipped an inch, his hand shaking around its grip on the cane. One of the men holding Saeyoung in place crashed a fist into the back of his head, and this time he fell forward completely limp, the blow knocking away his consciousness so that he was still and quiet. V flinched, but otherwise didn’t react.

“What are you doing here?” Saeran sounded shocked and enraged, and he took a step towards V, who squared his shoulders against him.

“I’m here with her blessing. Retrieving them is my test of loyalty.” His voice was warmer than she had expected, though the words were ice.

Saeran tossed his head, swishing his hair out of his eyes. “Tch. She’ll never forgive you.”

“Perhaps.” V shrugged, then turned to the cultists that had filled the room. “Take them to the cars and bind them. We’re leaving at once.”

As she was shuffled out the door, she looked at V. He met her gaze, holding it, as though he were trying to tell her something with just the weight of his eyes, hidden behind screens of shadow that kept her from the truth. His mouth was set in a grim line, but she could see so many things etched into his face. She could see chapters of his story written there, plain across his skin in a language that she couldn’t comprehend. It was too complex to convey exactly what had happened, but she could see the lingering feelings that it left behind. Whatever had driven him to this point had left volumes of sorrow on his shoulders, and they crushed whatever remained of the man the RFA once knew. She wanted to ask him why, to beg for the reasons that would justify this cruelty, but her lips were locked shut as she was dragged out into the frigid air, her bare feet scraping against the ground so that the bandages still wrapped around them tore against the rocks and mud.

He looked so sad for a man that had betrayed them so callously.

***

Saeran was in a separate car as they sped down the highway, the morning sun flashing against the trees and creating ribbons of rainbows against the glass of the windshield. He couldn’t see the others, but he felt like he could feel them, and it made his skin crawl.

This was his greatest victory. This was his hard work paying off in a moment of triumph, Saeyoung’s lying face crumpling in pain and torment as he finally got his just deserves. A fraction of the torment that Saeran had endured every day until he had been freed. He was returning home, bringing his most hated enemy back to his Savior for justice. He had dreamed of this moment every night for what felt like a hundred years, yearning for it like the sea craved the pull of the moon.

So why was it that all he could think of was the look in her eyes when she had asked him why?

She didn’t understand. He knew that she would come to see the truth, in time. He promised himself that he could make her understand. He knew that this was necessary, that it had always been necessary. It was the only path that he had known, the only one that he could walk. Everything had been hurtling towards this end, just like he had wanted.

_Please make them stop hurting him._

The stars had been stolen from the sky, and they lived in her eyes. No, that was wrong. She had carried them always. They had always been there. When the night was clear and full of glittering dust was when she had allowed it, when she had slept and so the stars had not been needed. He had hurt the stars. He had hurt the whole of the heavens, making them shimmer with tears and pain. He had done this. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean this. He didn’t want this. He was supposed to be celebrating, but instead he was mourning the scars across the heart of an innocent.

He had picked her, plucked her from the savage darkness where the world had left her discarded and bleeding. He had been the thief tugging the strings of fate, guiding her towards this end. He was sending her to paradise. That had always been the destination.

_I wouldn_ _’t want to go._

Her words haunted him. They settled in his bones, filling the marrow with things he didn’t understand but he so desperately wanted to. It stuck to him like poison, but it didn’t drain him, didn’t tick down the seconds of his life as it spoiled his blood. Instead it spread like fizzing magic, scouring away layers until something real and raw quivered in the cold air. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the small, shivering thing that he was. He was strong. The Savior had made him strong. She loved him. She had saved him.

_I disagree._

His hand shook as he pounded it against the side of the door, beating an odd and absent rhythm while his mind chased itself in circles. His thoughts were chaos. He needed clarity. He needed his medicine. He was going home, and the Savior would have his medicine. He loved her. She had saved him.

Home _._ He was returning to where he belonged. She had told him where he belonged, and he knew that it was the only place he could ever be. He had been away too long. He needed to bask in the light of the Savior so that he could forget the twinkling of the stars. Why would he dwell on the night when he could embrace the glory of the sun?

He continued tapping a cadence against the door, telling himself that this was what he had always wanted. Telling himself that he knew the answers to her question, and that he could tell her in time. It was true. It was honest, it was what he had always believed. He could tell her why; he could spout the many reasons like poetry written by the ancient rhythm of the Earth. He could recite them in his head, and they were words that he had always known, things that had represented the world that he had lived in, words that shaped the very structure of his reality. They were inescapable, immutable, and they had always been his.

It bothered him that when he thought of her gaze all of them felt like lies.


	57. Little Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the Savior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hurt myself with this one. Ow.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been on the road. He had regained consciousness sometime in the car, his hands tied behind his back with zip ties that were slicing through his skin. Nicky was stuffed in a seat across from him, her eyes glued to the floor. He had tried to speak to her once, but the effort had earned him a crack to the ribs from someone’s elbow. The look on her face when she had seen him in pain had been enough to keep him silent from that point forward. He tried to promise her safety with his eyes, but he wasn’t sure he could follow through with such a vow, so he wasn’t sure how convincing it would have been even if she could have heard it. After that she had stared at the floor, bleak and listless, and it filled his shattered heart with hate.

He was full of so much anger. When he had seen V standing in the doorway, he had wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around his neck and strangle the life out of him. Nicky’s screams still echoed in his ears, and he wanted V to feel every bit of the pain that she had endured. This was all his fault. All of it. Whatever had been done to Saeran, everything that had happened between them, every bit of pain that he and his brother and Nicky had been put through. All the pain that had been poured on the rest of the RFA. V had been behind it all, and now he had come to finish the job. Saeyoung wanted to kill him for it.

His head felt like it was full of heat, his veins felt like they were full of ice, and by the time they dragged them out onto the driveway of their destination he was pretty sure that he was only inches away from losing his mind. Nicky stumbled on the rocks as they were walked towards the building, the same one he had run from to rush to her rescue days ago. He watched as the cultists lifted her, dragging her forward as her freezing feet failed her. He could see blood through the bottoms of the bandages again. She bled across the trail to whatever fate awaited them, and every drop enraged him further. How had they found them? Had they been tracking Saeran the whole time? Had V known where they would go? Had Saeran tipped them off?

They were hauled through the massive doors at the front of the building, being paraded through the halls as other people in robes scurried past, their heads down and disinterested in the display. V led the procession, the tap of his cane against the floor a constant rhythm that preceded each step. Behind him trailed the group of cultists holding Nicky and Vanderwood, then Saeran, and he himself brought up the rear with the last of the group of fiends that were stealing his future away. His shoulder felt like it was full of fire, his throat was full of ash, his stomach was bleeding again, and his head throbbed with each beat of his heart. He thought he might be starting to run a fever, and that was bad news. He needed to keep a clear head. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to do anything to stop whatever was happening, but his odds lessened with each passing minute as his mind filled with delirious haze. 

They were brought through a set of double doors and led into the center of a grandiose room. The marble on the floor was a muted yellow, the curtains on the walls a brilliant white. Everything inside of it, from the furniture to the carpets, was covered in lush fabrics and complicated filigree, different shades of gold and cream dueling so that it felt like he was drowning in splendor. In front of them, on a raised dais, rested a gaudy throne, crafted out of shining metals that picked up the light and cast reflections out at the captive observers. The figure perched on it had their head bowed, the hood up around their ears, but he recognized the robe. This was the person he had seen enter and leave the side door, before he had gone into the control room when he had infiltrated this place looking for Saeran. They were poised in the seat with a quiet grace, wound like a coil full of tension. A single strand of yellow hair fell out of the shadows, spun sunlight dripping from the dark. They chuckled, and their voice filled the room, familiar and alien, savage and sweet. A lullaby of knives dragged across a chalkboard.

Then she pulled back her hood, and he would have fallen to his knees if he hadn’t been held upright by the rigid arms of the cultists. He took a breath and blinked, thinking that his mind had finally come unhinged, his senses leaving him.  His eyes were lying. His synapses must have fired one too many times, because the person that was seated before them couldn’t be there. Her hair was fluid around her shoulders, her eyes as green as the dawning spring. Her cheeks were pink and hale, the rest of her porcelain and flawless. She was exactly as he remembered, stolen from the past and deposited in the present, impossible and all too real.

“Rika…”

“Hello, Luciel.” Her smile seemed like a twisted, mutilated version of the one that he had known, and part of him shrank beneath it even as the rest of him wanted to reach out to it, to hold it close and remember the days when it had soothed the savageries of his life.

He looked from V to Rika, something in his mind pulling tight and threatening to snap. He tried to walk forward, to rush to her, to put himself between her and V. He must have done something to her as well, he must have held her captive just like he was the rest of them. He had lied to make them think that she was dead, all this time. He still remembered the sound of Yoosung’s sobs at her funeral, the look of Jumin’s face as he stared at the casket, Zen’s tears as he had laid flowers on the empty grave, Jaehee’s numb efficiency as she had arranged the entire thing. She was supposed to be at the bottom of the sea, the weight of her sadness making her sink to the depths where it couldn’t reach her any longer. Yet here she was, her bright hair curled around her in a shimmering halo of waves, her green gaze full of life as she surveyed them each in turn. She was alive.

He took another step forward, dragging the cultists with him, trying to reach out to her. “Rika, you’re alive!” he glanced back at V, his chest tightening. “Rika, he said you were dead, don’t trust him, don’t let him near you -”

“Saeyoung.” Nicky’s voice drew his attention, snapping him out of the moment. He looked at her, and her eyes were filled with tears as she shook her head. He didn’t understand, he couldn’t comprehend why she was so sad as she looked at him. What was it she was trying to say with that sorrowful gaze?

He connected the pieces of the puzzle one by one, the picture becoming clear one horrible section at a time. The robes, her presence in this building. The opulence and the throne. V standing there, like a sentinel, rigid and in no way threatening the girl on the gilded chair. His brother hacking into his systems, breaking into the apartment to steal vital information. Plans for an organization littered about her old life, locked away and sent scattering when Saeran had broken the seal. V had lied to them over and over again, and there was no doubt about that, but now Saeyoung looked up at someone he had never thought could hurt them, someone that he had thought was lost before her time, a light unfairly taken from the world. V had betrayed them countless times, but now he knew that Rika had betrayed them so much more.

Her eyes, cold emeralds amidst a sea of gold, flicked to Nicky, sizing her up. “You’re a quick little dove.” Her words dripped with disdain, and he recoiled from it. He had never seen Rika behave this way, never seen her expression so sharp and dead.

“I don’t understand…” he swallowed, trying not to let the madness roaring in his heart consume him. He did understand, but he didn’t want to. He had cried over her grave. He had dripped flower petals in the freshly churned soil in her honor. He had thought often of the lovely woman in the church, who had given him bread with her hands and hope with her words. How could this be?

“Luciel.” Her smile was gracious, and she rose to step down off her platform, walking across the room to stand before him. “It has been so long.” She lifted her hand, poised to place it beneath his chin, but Nicky made a choked sound from where she stood, and it drew Rika’s attention away. She walked over to stand in front of Nicky, looking her in the eyes as she tilted her head up. “Do you have something to say?”

“How could you?” Nicky’s voice shook, and he wanted to run to her, to hold her. He wanted to fall apart into a hundred pieces and fade to dust against the ground.

“Poor, naive girl. You couldn’t possibly understand. You have been so broken by the world that you are blind to the darkness that consumed you.” Rika smiled, but it contained no joy, no warmth. Her face was a void, full of frigid emptiness that sucked away the light.

Nicky glowered, simmering resentment, pouring out meaning from every part of her. “They cared about you so much. How could you do this to them? Do you even know what you’re putting them through?”

“Oh, and you know them so well?” Rika’s retort snapped like a whip through the air, and suddenly she was no longer a void, she was no longer dark. Now she was fire and brimstone, burning at the edges so that he wanted to turn away, the heat painful as it radiated from her eyes. “You think you know what’s best for them after a mere handful of days?”

“I know that they don’t deserve this.” She wasn’t calm, but nor was she violent. A waterfall, washing over the stone, cleansing it of the dust and grime.

“You don’t know what they deserve. You don’t even know them. You have seen an ounce of their lives, and I have studied them for years. When I allowed Saeran to pick you, I thought you would be perfect for this job. Such a broken thing. I knew that you would be so desperate for attention that you would do anything to find it.” She grabbed Nicky’s face, gripping her so that the skin around her fingers turned white. “I hope you enjoyed the lie while it lasted. You have played your part, and now you will be silent and do as your told.” She released her, shoving her head to the side roughly.

Nicky whimpered, shaking as her hair fell across her face. She took a moment, breathing heavily, then lifted her gaze again. “I won’t. I won’t let you keep hurting them.”

Rika’s laughter filled the room, cruel and brittle. “Why do you struggle so hard against the inevitable? You are worthless. You were worthless when we found you, and you remain worthless to this day. You were weak enough to allow a man to take pieces of yourself away from you, and now you stand here before me, trying to claim you have any power over what happens next?” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she leaned close into Nicky’s face. “Do you imagine that they love you? Is that why you feel so brave? You must have some misunderstanding. You think you swept in and stole their hearts, but they never even left my hands. Think about it, little dove. Do you think they will spare even a single thought for you once they find out I’m alive?”

Nicky’s face fell, even though she tried to hold it firm. Her lips were shaking, so she pressed them together, her skin draining of its color. He wanted to protest, but he couldn’t speak. There were roaring flames coming from Rika’s throat, and they drowned out all the other sounds in the room. They held him sway, held him captive, and he was burning alive beneath their blinding rage.

“Look at him.” Rika pointed at him, her robes billowing around her arm, and Nicky followed the line of her finger. “Look at the shock and awe in his eyes. Remember the way he tried to reach out to me the minute he saw my face. I was their _world_. I was the center of everything that they held dear, and you were nothing more than a passing fancy. Their love for you will fade now that I can return. You were always a replacement, dear little dove, and now you are no longer needed. I will be their light once more, and you can rot in obscurity.” Tears were pouring down Nicky’s face, and Rika seemed to revel in them. She drank them with the triumph in her gaze, her own vicious light growing larger until it threatened to snuff Nicky’s completely.

He could never allow that to happen.

“No.” His voice cracked around the word, and so he swallowed and tried again. “No, you’re so wrong.”

“Luciel, hush. I know you’re confused, but I will explain all in good time.” Rika’s smile was serene, but now that he had seen the darkness spewing from her mouth he couldn’t help but notice the shadows lurking beneath the surface. It was the same expression Rika had given him a thousand times, but he had never noticed the sharp point to the brilliant sparkle. Had her love always been made of hooks? Were her words always so double-edged? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he would not allow her to rip Nicky apart with it.

“Nicky was never a stand-in for you. She was never anything like you. We didn’t fall in love with her because she was a replacement, we fell in love with her because she’s wonderful. That is never going to fade, it’s never going to change. You’re wrong if you think we could ever forget about her.”

Rika narrowed her eyes at him, then balanced her gaze between Nicky and himself. “So it’s true. You fell in love with her. More than the others, from the looks of it.” She tapped her finger against her chin, and the smile that spread across her lips was sinister. “Tell me, little dove. Do you love him back? Can you honestly look at this broken child, the blood of countless people on his hands, and say that you care for him?”

“Yes.” Nicky spoke without hesitation, and when she looked at him it was like she was filling the cracks in his heart with starlight. She looked back at Rika, her jaw set with determination. “I will always love him.”

“Do you even know what that word means? Do you really think that you can make such a grand statement after knowing him for all of thirteen days? You are a grain of sand on the beach. You are a moment in time. I pulled him from his suffering and gave him a life. I am his past and his future.”

“Did you ever even care about what happened to him after you supposedly saved him?”

“It was better than what he had.” Rika shrugged. “Isn’t that enough?”

They glared at each other, the energy between them filling the room. At first glance they had appeared similar, both shining with a power that drew others in. Now that they stood side by side he could see the differences, he could see the variances in their natures. Rika had pulled them in because she had needed them, feeding off their devotion to fuel her own needs. They had been collected, and arranged; toys for her to tinker with whenever it pleased her. They had flocked to Nicky for the opposite reason. She had never needed them, but they had always needed her. They needed her laughter, they needed her love. She never spurned them when they asked for her time, she never resented their feelings even when they had been to her detriment. She always gave more than she got, and for that reason she had earned their faith and adoration. It was willfully given, not taken or stolen. Rika had been desperation, a clinging need to find salvation from the darkness in their lives. Nicky had always been hope, and in that they had found so much more than redemption for their pasts.

“No, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for any of them.”

“It looks like I must clip your wings after all.” Rika turned away from her, looking at the men holding her in place. “Take them to the cells, and bring me the alchemist. I wish to discuss their dosages.” She turned on her heel and flounced towards Saeran, who was staring at her with wide, frightened eyes. He kept looking from her to Nicky, and each time his terror seemed to grow greater. He tugged at the strings of his hoodie, his fingers trembling. Rika reached him and grasped his head, pulling it forward so she could plant a kiss on his brow. “You have done so well, my pet.”

He didn’t speak as she pulled him into her arms, embracing him in a mechanical way that looked fake and hollow. His eyes strayed to Nicky over her shoulder as the cultists started dragging them away. It was difficult to see his pain as he watched them go, difficult to see the turmoil in his brother matching the turmoil in his own heart. Nicky was taken down the hallway, and Saeyoung strained to keep looking back. For one brief moment, he met his brother’s gaze, and this time he didn’t find hatred. This time he saw the little boy, looking up at him as he read computer books, asking for freedom that Saeyoung knew he had never believed they could have. The little boy was begging him once more, asking his bigger brother for one favor across all their differences. It overwhelmed the hate and rage, it drowned out the resentment. It was something in common between them now, and it rekindled the fires of his resolve. 

_Don_ _’t worry Saeran. I’ll save her. I’ll save her, and then I’ll save you._


	58. What was True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeran takes his medicine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I cried while writing the last part so I KNOW, OKAY? I KNOW AND I'M SORRY.

Three point two million dollars. She looked over the numbers, scanning the fields for any errors, but the math was correct. Everything lined up in its proper place, all the numbers checking out with the same precision that was always there in her calculations. That was the cost of this loss, if it was allowed to stand. Three point two million dollars down the drain if the assets weren’t retrieved. The logic of the deficit was easy enough to follow. Training, paychecks, an astounding amount that had been devoted to an accelerated college track. The loss was only part of the problem, however.

Goldi was a woman that dealt in potentials. When she considered a prospective agent’s eyes she could weigh their entire worth in a matter of seconds. She sized them up and tallied it against everything that it would cost her to make them into something worthy to work with, and if the numbers were in the green she didn’t kill them. Their potential always had to outweigh their cost. The sniveling little brat that had been dragged into her office years ago had been worth twice his weight in gold, and she had never once regretted raising him out of whatever shit hole they found him in. She had even fancied herself benevolent once or twice, though it mattered little. What mattered to her was the name that she had built for herself, and in truth the potential that she looked for from these thugs and cretins was not just about whether or not they could obey orders and pull a trigger, but whether or not they could do something to add to her name. This was her business, built with the sweat of her expansive brow, and she would grow it large enough to swallow the competition, even if it killed her. At least she would die with meaning to her life, which was much more than she could say for the bastards she hired.

It was the wasted potential that bothered her about this possible loss. Half the money was already gone, and the accountants could fuck off if they wanted to hound her about it later. What pissed her off was that two of her most valuable assets had disappeared, and they would no longer be available to expand her reach. The red headed brat was a freak, capable of doing things with computers that even her other hackers could barely understand. Vanderwood never missed a shot, and she never fucked up a job. Well, except the once, but Goldi had known what would happen when she sent them. She was always glad about it, afterward. Losing Klein had been inconvenient, but Vanderwood and 707 had been brutally efficient following his death. They were miserable, but it benefited her, and that was all that mattered.

Served them right for trying to double cross her in the first place.

The door shook with the force of the person on the other side, knocking like they had something important to say. She sighed, moving her papers aside and adjusting her hair. “In.”

The handle turned and the door was pushed inward, a face peering around the edge to look at her blearily. They had black hair that hung over their eyes, and roughly twelve piercings shoved into any available space on their face. “Hey boss, I have news.”

“Mikleo, come in.” She smiled, mostly because she knew it made the girl nervous. The agent nodded, shuffling around the door with her laptop in her hands. She was a wiry thing, never recovering any of the fat on her bones after they had fished her off the brink of starvation. Three years and she still looked like a sack of toothpicks that had been assembled in a Hot Topic and given life.

“We picked up the signal on Vanderwood’s tracker.” Mikleo flipped the screen around, showing her the GPS coordinates in the middle of the mountains.

“Confirmed? He didn’t create a dummy signal?”

Mikleo winced and shook her head. “No, not so far as I can tell. This matches what we put in, he was only blocking it for a while. Or they fished it out, but there’s been subtle changes to the coordinates since we picked it back up, so it’s at least attached to something moving.”

Goldi picked up the phone on her desk, punching the keypad to input Excalibur’s number. He answered after a single beep. “Ma’am?”

“Mobilize, we found her.” She didn’t wait for his assent before she hung up the phone, looking at Mikleo appraisingly. “Suit up, I want you with us this time, in case he pulls something else while we’re out there.”

Mikleo’s mouth thinned into a grim line on her face, but Goldi already didn’t care about whatever feelings she was trying to hide. She didn’t care if any of them had any goddamn feelings about hunting some of their own. All she cared about were the results, and the potential.

She had the potential to bring back both Vanderwood and 707 today, as well as his twitchy brother. She’d have to have them all reconditioned before they would be fit for duty, but after that they would be unstoppable. The potential was unlimited, and she was willing to risk a great deal for that kind of promise.

Goldilocks was a greedy bitch and she knew it, and she would be damned if she let this kind of a chance slip through her grasp.

***

She had held her tongue while the evil blonde had ranted at the poor kids, keeping herself in the background. Her head felt like someone had rammed a log through it, so it had been easy to pretend that she was halfway to unconsciousness. She kept her mouth shut as they were dragged down four flights of stairs, as well, sinking deeper into the mountain. The walls looked less like structures and more like caverns at this depth, and she could feel the dampness of the air as it brushed against the layers of dirt above their head. She continued to keep her mouth shut, making herself invisible.

They were led down a hallway comprised of cell doors, like some kind of medieval dungeon. One of the cultists unlocked one of them, and the three of them were pushed inside. They threw Saeyoung hard enough that he slammed against the back wall, a cry of pain bursting out of his throat before he sank to the ground, grimacing as he tried not to scream. Then the cultists slammed the door shut and left them to rot, turning their backs without so much as a second look. Nicky started crying, rushing over and kneeling to try and soothe Saeyoung.

“Are you okay?!”

He wheezed, and it didn’t sound good. His cheeks were flushed and the rest of him was as pale as snow. She could tell he was starting to run a fever, which meant something was probably infected. It would be hard to say if it was the stomach wound or the shoulder. Or possibly a cold from being dragged around without a shirt or pair of shoes. No matter which way she sliced it, though, it was still bad news.

“I’ll be fine.” He tilted forward as best he could to kiss her cheek, and Vanderwood looked away.

She stood by the bars and watched their captors leave, waiting until they closed the door at the other end of the hall and surrounded them in silence before she turned back around to the tragic lovers.

“Hey, Red, c’mere for a second.”

Nicky complied, rising as best she could with her hands behind her back. Vanderwood noticed that the bruise on her wrist had risen to new levels of vivid coloring. It was also swollen, and the plastic cable wrapped around her arms had scratched through the skin and rubbed it to an angry red. 

When she finally stood in front of her, Vanderwood turned and tilted her hip so that her pocket was visible. “See if you can get your hand in my pocket and take out the knife I have in there.”

“Vandy, you’re a genius.” Saeyoung mumbled the words from his position against the wall, and she rolled her eyes in tandem with Nicky. The girl turned around, and they began the awkward process of trying to fish the knife out while both her hands were tied. It didn’t help that her pockets were ridiculously deep, and for the first time in her life she regretted wearing men’s pants. Of course, it they were women’s then the pockets would be fake, and she wouldn’t have anything in them at all, so fumbled pocket diving was the lesser of two evils.

“Ha! I got it!” Nicky bounced on her heels as she pulled the knife free, and Vanderwood quickly spun around and grabbed it.

“Hold still, let me get you undone first and then you can get us.” It took some additional maneuvering to cut through the ties without risking her fingers, but eventually they got through. Nicky sighed with relief, rubbing at her wrists. She winced when she tried to move the one that was swollen, but swallowed whatever pain she was feeling so that she could cut off the ties around Vanderwood’s hands. As soon as her hands were free she reached over and grabbed the girl’s arms before she could move on to setting Saeyoung free.

“Hey, what -”

“Hold still, I’m checking your wrist before you untie him, because I know he’s going to get all clingy, and I want to make sure you don’t have anything broken first.” They met eyes, and Nicky nodded her assent, smirking to display her gratitude. Vanderwood decided that she definitely liked this girl.

“Broken? How bad is it?” Saeyoung whined from where he sat, trying to peer around Nicky’s back to look at her arm.

Vanderwood ignored him in favor of paying attention to the injury. It was swollen, and purple, and she couldn’t move it for shit. Each time Vanderwood tried to adjust the angle she watched Nicky bite her tongue and hiss in pain. She shook her head, letting the arm go. “Yeah, that’s probably a stress fracture. Try not to move it much.” She leveled her gaze at Saeyoung, whose eyes were fluttering as he watched them with concern. “Do you hear me, lover boy? Don’t make her move her arm.”

“Hey, I resent the implications that I would ever hurt her.”

Vanderwood snorted, moving to sit down on the other side of the cell as Nicky set to work untying Saeyoung’s hands. “What? You’re real dumb, I can’t be too careful.”

His hands were free, and he immediately grabbed Nicky’s face and pulled her into a kiss, her yelp of surprise overcome by a sweet gasp before it even faded from the room. Vanderwood turned away again.

_“Why do you do that?” his palms were pressed against her cheeks, and she was still breathing heavily as he drew his lips away, his eyes half-lidded and full of heat. He always kissed her like that when they had completed a job, like he was so desperate to do so he thought he would die if he waited even another second._

_“Because we’re alive.”_

_“Yeah, and we were alive yesterday, too, and the day before that. You act like you think every mission should have been our last. ”_

_He wound his arms around her neck, pulling her close._ _“What if it was?”_

_“Then we’d be dead, and it would be over.” She let him nuzzle her nose and trail kisses along her cheek, his breath ghosting against her ear. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to do the grand gesture_ _ before _ _certain death?_ _”_

_“Then it would be a goodbye. This is a beginning. The first day that I get to kiss you for the rest of our lives.” He bit her earlobe, and she couldn’t help herself from moaning. “We’ll all go someday, so I want to celebrate all the times we don’t.”_

_“You’re such a sap.”_

_“Shut up and take your pants off, Mary.”_

She was happy for them, she really was, but it still hurt like hell to see it. It was something she understood because it was something she once had, and something that was gone forever. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t wake up and have a new moment of dread every time the truth came back to her. Klein was dead. It was the first thing she remembered at the dawn of each day. Klein, the only man she had ever loved, was dead. It never got any easier, she had just gotten much better at pretending.

“Hey, Vandy, you wouldn’t happen to have a phone in one of those pockets, would you?” Saeyoung grinned at her, sarcastic and ridiculous, as always. Nicky was now tucked under his arm, the pair of them shivering against the stone wall. There were new bruises starting to darken along his bare chest, and she frowned as she realized that he must be freezing and hadn’t noticed enough to complain. Another bad sign of a fever.

“Nope, it was on the table next to the chair. I suppose you guys didn’t happen to have yours stuffed down your pants?” They both shook their heads. “Then I guess we wait.” She sloughed off her jacket and tossed it in their direction, and Nicky grabbed it out of the air and started wrapping it around Saeyoung. He tried to protest, but fell silent after a single glare, allowing her to get it over his shoulders. She then repositioned herself beneath it, cradled on his left side, which seemed to satisfy him enough that he wasn’t going to complain. “Oh, and if anybody shows up remember to put your hands behind your back again. We’ll have more opportunities to escape if they don’t figure out we can move.”

“Sorry you got dragged into this.” Saeyoung looked so serious as he said it, and she knew that he was blaming himself for the whole mess. Funny thing was, she had a feeling half the people in this building were blaming themselves for the situation they were stuck in, and none of them were thinking clearly enough to realize it was the blonde psychopath that had put them all there in the first place. She wasn’t going to tell him that, though, because whoever that girl was had meant something to him at some point. She didn’t know if she had always been awful, or if that was a new development, but she could see that it was taking a toll on him now that he had found out about it.

She shrugged, tilting her head back against the wall. “Better than getting blown up.”

He didn’t laugh, but that was fine. She wasn’t trying to make him laugh, only trying to let him know she felt the same. Everything was shitty, but hey, they weren’t dead. They could wallow in depression for a while. What else were dungeons good for?

***

The room was dark, the curtains drawn so that he couldn’t see the harsh daylight outside. He missed the sky, but he was so thrilled to be back where he belonged that he didn’t care anymore. He was shaking so badly that he had to hold his hands together to keep still, and even then they wavered in front of him.

It was almost over. He was almost free. She was bringing his medicine, and it would take the pain away.

The door at the other end of the room opened, and she walked in carrying a tray full of tea. His eyes strained as they searched the tableau, until finally he saw it, the pretty green bottle that would make it all better. He was so thirsty that his throat ached, and he swallowed as he remembered what it would taste like, what it would feel like. He wanted it so badly. He started to stand, but she held out her hand to signal that he stop, and so he did, sinking back into the cushion to watch her with awe. She set the tray on the table in front of him, grabbing the vial and carrying it with her. She walked around until she was standing behind his chair, every movement the definition of grace, and he tilted his head back to look at her. Her eyes were like a cat’s, luminous even in the dim light, and he felt like he was swallowed by them.

She exhaled as she smiled, serenity and peace. “Saeran, tell me what’s true.”

“That you love me. That you saved me.” He breathed the familiar mantra, letting the words fill him. “That I missed you.”

Her smile widened, and she ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m sure that you did.” She massaged his scalp, and he closed his eyes, sighing as some of the tension eased out of his headache. He felt his fear drain away, his turmoil falling into the great emptiness that welcomed him. She soothed the savage winds that battered his shaking heart, and he relished the cool breeze that replaced it. He could almost taste the sickly-sweet burn of the green liquid in the vial, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

“Do you like her?” she didn’t pause her ministrations, so he didn’t open his eyes, relaxing into her touch.

“Who?”

He felt her smile, her touch soft against his scalp. “The girl you chose. Do you like her?”

“Yes.” He spoke without reservation, the truth slipping easily from his exhausted lips. He smiled to himself as he thought of her bright eyes. They had green in them, too, just like the medicine. Healing.

“Is that why you chose her?”

He frowned, trying to think, to cast his mind backwards to the time before he had left. “No. Sort of.”

She moved her hands to his shoulders, massaging the tension away. “Why did you pick her?”

“Because you said to find someone alone.” He wanted to ask about the medicine, to ask if he could have it. He felt like it was calling to him from her pocket, singing a sweet song of release. He was a flower, petals folded close together, and with one drop of green spring he would unfold, beautiful and lovely under his Savior’s guidance. He wanted to bloom. He wanted to drink the sweet nectar of salvation and bloom for her. 

“Yes, that is true. But why her, out of all the others?” her voice was so even, smooth like a frozen pond. He liked it, he liked to think about it without any ripples, without any flaws.

He hummed with approval as her fingers returned to his hair, prying apart the curls so that they fell loose against his head. “Because I thought she deserved paradise.”

She chuckled, and it prickled at his senses like a spider on the back of his neck. “Perhaps. Do you still feel that way?”

“Yes.”

She leaned down, placing her head next to his ear. “Do you want her?”

He opened his eyes but didn’t turn his head, her hands holding it fast. “What?”

“Do you want her? For yourself?” there was a strange hum to her voice, a curve to the words that didn’t make sense. It was honey, but it was black and viscous, sticking to places where it should have melted.

He felt his breath hitch in his throat, still so dry and empty. “No, I don’t -”

“You don’t want to take her from your brother?”

His heart thrummed in his chest, and he knew that he hated the idea. Making Saeyoung suffer was one thing, but the way she spoke of it she made it sound like he would take her by force. He would never want to make her do something like that without her choosing to do it…and even then, what she was suggesting made him uncomfortable. He didn’t feel that way, couldn’t picture her like that. “No, I don’t think she would…it isn’t like that -”

Her voice dipped lower, and it was his first clue that something had gone wrong. “Then what is it? Explain to me what your fascination is with this plain little dove.” The timbre was off, the key out of tune. He felt her fingernail scrape against his scalp, and it left a stinging line that made his nerves jitter like candles in the wind.

“I don’t understand.” His voice shook, and he wished that he had never said anything, he wished that he could take it back. He just wanted her voice to be soft and warm, he just wanted her to smile as he did as she asked. He just wanted her to be proud of him.

She grabbed a fist full of his hair and pulled, abruptly yanking his head as far back as it would go with a quick gesture. “Tell me what’s true, Saeran.” Her voice was venom now, furious and white hot with disappointment.

“Ow!” tears sprang to the corner of his eyes from the pain, and she twisted her hand violently when he didn’t speak quick enough to please her. “That you love me! That you saved me!”

“What has _she_ done for you?”

“She was…she was…” he couldn’t think. His brain was stretched thin from the long days away from home, his head still throbbing, and now she was hurting him because he had done something wrong. He didn’t understand, and a whimper ripped out of his throat. He just wanted everything to stop. “She was -”

“She was what, Saeran? Was she _nice_ to you? Did she smile and bat those pretty little eyes?” she pulled again, and he could feel his hair ripping out of the back of his head. He tried to breathe, but he could only gasp, his throat stretched so far backwards that the air could only pass through a tiny strip, a straw with fingers plugging the ends.

“Yes! No! I just -”

“’You just’ what, Saeran? You just forgot that she was sleeping with the person you hate more than anything? You forgot that he abandoned you, and left you for dead in your mother’s clutches?”

His face was burning and wet, and he thought that he was melting beneath his tears. “I…”

“Did you think that it was anything but lies? Did you think anyone but me could ever love you? Could ever care for you? Could ever even _look_ at you?”

“No!”

He heard the pop of the cork as she ripped it from the vial with her teeth, and then she stuffed the top between his lips, shoving it into his mouth so that the liquid poured straight into the back of his throat. He started to gag, already too short of breath to swallow, and she grabbed his chin, holding it closed as her other hand still snagged at his hair. He thought he would choke, his eyes streaming as everything started to burn, but then the medicine made its way down. He felt a wave of numbness roll through him, initiating at the back of his tongue and spreading outward. The roaring inside his head grew quiet, and his heaving breaths stuttered to a crawl. Peace was born in the center of his mind, and he felt himself unfurl. He was blooming, but his petals were wilting. He was shriveling because he had displeased her. He blinked up at her, watching her face as she glared at him with disgust. He was ashamed of how much he disappointed her. He should have done better.

“I saved you. I raised you. I am the only one who showed you love.” The world spun around them, and all he could feel were her words sliding into him like knives, ripping apart his skin to tie the truth to his bones. “ _She_ is nothing. She is in league with your brother, and both of them want to see you suffer. They want to see you dead. They wished that you had never been born. She is laughing at you right now, laughing at how gullible and foolish you have been.” She released his hair and he gasped in relief, letting the empty bottle tumble from his lips. He started to sob, the shaking in his limbs subsiding as the sweet ichor of faith flooded his veins. Beautiful green and gold clouded his vision, and he felt like the sun was in his eyes. He had been such a fool.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, crossing them over his chest so that she could press her cheek against his. “Sweet boy, they are so cruel to you. I will punish them. I will make sure they cannot lie to you ever again. Would you like that?” her voice was a purr, a gentle offering of love that he didn’t deserve. She was so kind to him, such a lovely person. She was always there for him.

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Saeran. Tell me again what’s true.”

His devotion to her overwhelmed him, and he could barely breathe around it as he spoke the words that were more than a prayer to him, more than a verse from the only book he held as truth. It was all that he was, and all that he would ever be. He always knew what was true. “That you love me. You’re the only one. You love me and you saved me.”

She smiled, and it looked to him like it stretched across the whole world. “Good boy.” Green fields of grass swayed in the summer sound of her voice. She was so real. So perfect. She lifted her hand and dangled something in front of his face, a prize that he hadn’t earned. He had to blink several times before he could see it clearly, but when he realized it was another beautiful green bottle he snatched it away, uncapping it and greedily downing the contents. She released him, walking around to sit in the chair across from him, making herself a cup of tea and humming quietly. He let the sound float around him, the notes evoking colors and feelings in the back of his mind that made him feel like he was the whole sky, and she were a bird serenading him to sleep. He could taste the music in the bottom of the bottle, and it set him free.

He had been so stupid. He had been so confused. He was so thankful that the Savior had set him straight. She loved him so much, and he was so grateful that she cared enough to defend him. He thought of Nicky, with her big bright eyes, and now the image of her laughing at him was tattooed in his mind. It hurt. It hurt so much to think of it, but now that he knew it was true he couldn’t stand how stupid he had been. She had smiled and glowed, as bright as the stars, and maybe if he could count them he would have a number for the different ways that she had broken his heart. Saeyoung had stolen everything from him. His childhood, his hope, and now his only friend. Things never changed.

But he knew what was true. The Savior loved him. She would save him again. She would always save him. Saeran knew what was true, and this time he wouldn’t forget it.


	59. A Man of Broken Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which paradise is explained.

Everywhere that his skin touched her felt like fire, and she was terrified of what that meant. It didn’t help that he was shivering against her, sometimes shaking so hard that he had to bite his tongue to keep from crying in pain as the reverberations moved through his shoulder. She was desperate to do something to help, but she could barely focus around the pain shooting through her wrist. Her feet were throbbing again, and all she wanted to do was curl into the corner and cry. So much had happened since their awful awakening this morning, and she had no room in her head to process any of it. All she could think about was the pain. The pain in her body, the pain Saeyoung was being subjected to, the pain in everyone’s eyes with each new dreadful revelation.

_You are worthless. You were worthless when we found you, and you remain worthless to this day._

She was right, and knowing it crushed her in a way that even her sexual assault had not been able to. Rika could tell that Nicky was only there because she had found a way to cling to someone much greater than herself, and all she had done since things had started was slow them down. She couldn’t even say anything to defend her only friends when Rika had talked about them so callously. All she could do was quietly crumble under her cold regard. She _was_ weak, and if she had been stronger maybe they would not have been in this position. She wouldn’t have needed Saeyoung to keep running to her rescue, and then maybe he wouldn’t be sitting on the floor with a fever so high he could barely function.

The way that Rika had looked at her reminded her of the way her professor had when she had walked in to that recital almost five weeks ago. Mrs. Capalli had gazed at her with the same iciness, looking at her as though she wished she could crush her into dust. In her mind, Nicky had stolen her husband away, defiling him and then dragging his name through the mud. Her side of the story had never mattered, because there was no room in her professor’s mind for that truth. She had been destroyed in the name of shoring up the walls of denial, and she would never forget the look in her eyes when it had happened. Like she couldn’t wait for Nicky to dissolve into pain and nothing. She wished that she could comply. She wished that she could disappear so that everyone around her wouldn’t have to carry her weight on their shoulders any longer.

Saeyoung groaned, and she pushed her foreboding thoughts to the back of her mind as she turned to face him. There was sweat starting to bead across his brow, and his eyes fluttered between opened and closed, shining bright with the fever. She placed her hand against his cheek, and it was like putting ice against fire. He smiled, but it turned into a grimace before it could give anyone any comfort, the muscles of his throat straining as he tried to ride out the pain of another shivering fit.

“What can I do?” she held her forehead against his cheek, praying that there was an answer, praying that there was something that could be done to ease his pain. “How can I help?”

He chuckled, and it was weak and fragile, but still such a beautiful sound to her. “Will you…sing?” he had to take a deep breath to even get those three words out, and she lifted her head in surprise, blinking at him as a blush crept across her cheeks. “Ah, that blush. I remember the first time I made you blush, and you sent me that picture. Did I ever tell you…what that picture did to me? I couldn’t stop looking at it for days.”

He was looking at her with so much love that it broke her heart and gave it wings all at once. “Saeyoung…”

“You have no idea what that blush does to me.” His eyes were shining with emotion that he couldn’t contain. “I know it’s ridiculous, but please, if it isn’t too much to ask, will you sing? Maybe if they hear your sweet voice the aliens will beam us up.”

Vanderwood snorted from across the cell, raising her eyebrow at them as Nicky laughed. “Is he delirious now, or does that make some kind of sense to you?”

She looked down at him, her cheeks aching with how wide she was smiling. “It makes sense.”

He winked at her, then grinned at Vanderwood. “Yeah, I’m perfectly sensible.”

“My ass.” Vanderwood rolled her eyes, but Nicky could see the twitch to her lips as she tried not to smile.

Nicky leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips, then pulled back and straightened her posture, clasping her hands in front of her diaphragm. Her wrist screamed in protest for a second, and she had to adjust so that she wasn’t hurting it any longer. She was incredibly proud that she kept her teeth clamped on her tongue, and the shriek of pain never made it out into the world to worry her companions.

It felt strange to sing in such an abysmal place, and she tried to think of all the songs she knew and which one that she could choose. She looked around at the damp walls and the moss-covered stonework on the floor. She looked at Vanderwood’s slumped shoulders as she looked at the pair of them curiously, and she looked at Saeyoung’s face as he glowed with anticipation. Things were so dire, and so dark. She saw everything clearly, and she knew that she wanted to sing about light, to remind them of what would be waiting for them when they saw this through.

She opened her mouth and let the music pour out, filling the small space with the melody. The song was in French, so she knew the words might not make much sense to them, but she hoped the notes would impart enough of the meaning that she wanted to convey. It was a light song with subtle minor tones, the pace starting with a low roll that bloomed into a bright crescendo towards the end.

When she finished she looked down at Saeyoung, and smiled widely to herself when she saw that he had fallen asleep. It looked fitful, and his breathing was still coming in uneven and shallow bursts, but his face was no longer drawn with pain, and she was more grateful for that then she could express. She settled back against him, careful not to jostle him back awake, and she laid her head against his shoulder.

Vanderwood was giving her a strange look, and finally she wrinkled her nose and spoke. “What did it mean?”

“It’s a song about keeping hope in your heart, even when you think there’s no chance of success.”

“Tch. Sentimental shit.” Vanderwood crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes, but she was smiling, and Nicky had a feeling that the other woman was more sentimental than she would ever be willing to admit out loud.

“Don’t worry, Vanderwood. We’ll get out of this somehow. _Together._ ”

“Tch.” She didn’t open her eyes, settling further into a divot in the wall, but Nicky knew that it had been worth saying regardless of whether Vanderwood thanked her out loud.

Saeyoung’s heart beat echoed in her ear, and she closed her eyes and let the sound ease some of her tension. It wasn’t enough. Singing of hope in the darkness was not nearly enough, but it was all that she had.

She only hoped her worthlessness wouldn’t cause everyone more pain in the end.

***

He was led into the room by another figure in robes, and they ushered him in then closed the door behind him. It was dark inside, so it was even more impossible to make out anything with his useless eyes. He had to take off his sunglasses and squint, but he was eventually able to see Rika sitting across the table from Saeran, a cup of tea placed beside her as she held her phone in her hands. She didn’t look up as he walked over to stand beside her, and Saeran barely reacted at all. He was slumped in his chair, his head tilted back and his jaw slack. He could smell the stink of that foul poison that Rika dosed everyone with heavy in the air, and he knew that Saeran must be half out of his mind at this point as the drugs coursed through his veins.

“Please, take a seat.” Rika waved her hands to one of the empty chairs, and he slid into it, locking his eyes on her. She didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze on her phone, and a bitter smile crept across her face. “My apologies, I’m just finishing up one last email to the RFA.”

“The RFA?” his surprise made him speak when he hadn’t intended to, and he bit the side of his cheek to hold his tongue from further mishaps. He needed to weigh everything he said to her carefully before it left his lips, or he could risk the last shreds of hope that he was clinging to.

Her smile grew deeper, lifting the tops of her cheeks, but her eyes flashed with nothing short of malice. “Yes. I’ve invited them to a little party, in their honor. Do you think they’ve missed the parties?” he didn’t say anything, which only seemed to please her further. “I wanted to bring them into paradise, before things got so chaotic that we couldn’t celebrate such a momentous occasion.”

“Paradise?” he had heard her speak of such a thing countless times, but it had never been made clear what exactly she meant. As far as he was concerned, paradise was an abstract concept, a thing promised in scripture that they could only understand upon the exit of their last breath. She spoke as though it were something she could build with bricks and sweat, to place next to her golden throne as a prize for those she deemed worthy.

“What breeds sin?” she set her phone down, picking up her cup of tea and taking a sip.

She had directed the question towards himself, but Saeran mumbled an answer from across the table. “Free will.”

“Very good, sweetling. Free will breeds sin. Mankind could not break the tenants of God if they were simply compelled to follow them.” Her eyes locked on his, and he remembered how green they used to be when she laughed. He used to love watching her gaze at his art, a wistful smile on her face. When he had wrapped his arms around her to kiss her cheek she had blinked up at him, glowing so bright he could hardly stand it. Where was the girl that loved pictures of the sunset? Where was the girl who had promised to be his sun for all eternity?

_“Do you think God hates us?” she was sitting by the window as she spoke, her eyes locked on the rain covered glass. The grey of the sky cast liquid shadows across her face, her hair falling down her back like rays of sunlight bursting through the clouds._

_“What?” he folded his book closed, setting it on the table as he looked at her. She had been happy a moment before, and now he was concerned that one of her melancholies had come upon her suddenly. His heart beat faster as he worried for what mood it would take this time._

_“Do you think God hates us?” she repeated the question with the same slow wonder that it had possessed the first time._

_“No. Why would you ask such a thing?”_

_Her eyes crinkled as her expression crumbled, her fingers clenching together in her lap._ _“Because he has created such pain. How are we supposed to feel his love when we are in such pain?”_

_He rose and walked to sit beside her, pulling her to his chest._ _“Shh. I know, my love, I know. I know that you hurt. Remember what the therapist said? Think of something that makes you happy and remember that it will be waiting for you when the pain passes.”_

_Her tears soaked his shirt._ _“I won’t last. You’re the only thing that makes me happy, and you’re going to leave me.”_

_“What?” he lifted her face so that he could look into her eyes, beautiful even when they were full of such sorrow. “Why would you think that?”_

_“Because everyone leaves. My mother left this world just to get away from me, and some day you’ll leave me too.” She clenched the collar of his shirt, her lips trembling as more tears streamed from her face. “I don’t want to be alone again. I can’t stand it. I can feel the loneliness still, it’s always there, behind me and in front of me. I don’t want to live through it again.”_

_She closed her eyes, and he held her face higher, kissing her briefly to halt the horrible fears tumbling from her lips._ _“Hey, no. I’m never going anywhere. I love you, Rika.”_

_She sobbed against him, her fingers wrapping around his wrists, clinging to him with a desperation he didn_ _’t understand. “I wish that I could believe you.”_

_“Nothing in this world could take me away from you. I promise.”_

_“Promise?” He nodded assent to her desperate question, and the shadows faded from her brilliant gaze. She took a deep breath, resting her forehead against his, her lashes full of tears like the rain on the windowpane. She shuddered, breathing again, and after several heartbeats she seemed to calm down._

_“I think…I think that I have always loved you. I think that I was waiting for you to find me, to save me.”_

_“I will always save you.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tight as he could manage, hoping that his warmth and affection could drown out the terrible voices in her head that caused her so much pain._

_“I don’t want to go to therapy anymore. She makes me talk about the past, and that just makes me feel so lonely again. I don’t like forgetting about our love. I don’t like remembering the pain.”_

_He ran his fingers through her hair._ _“Okay. If it will make you feel better. Just, remember that I’m always here, and that I’ll never be away from your side.” He would bring therapy up again later, when she was doing better, when she was stronger. He would keep loving her until she was strong enough to get better._

_“Always.”_

He was a man of broken vows, and his word meant less than nothing. He shook himself, abandoning the memories in the dark corner of his mind where he kept him, trying to focus on the moment and what he could do to repair the cracks in this broken girl whom he had helped turn into a monster.

“That doesn’t explain to me what you believe this paradise will be.” He chose his words carefully, crafting the question as politely as he could.

“Mankind, free of sin.” She took another sip of tea before setting the cup down and spinning in the chair to face him. “Look at my precious pet.” She pointed to Saeran, and V obliged, looking at the addled boy who had been damaged so many times that he couldn’t tell light from dark any longer. “He loves me. He is fully devoted to me, and because I can take control he is free of pain. He will never leave me. He will never sin, unless I command it.” She stood, walking to stand beside him, reaching down and taking his hands. It was the first time that she had touched him since his arrival, and his felt tears well in his ruined eyes. She was so soft, so warm. He didn’t dare to even breathe, focusing on the contact and her words, drinking it in. “Imagine a world where I can give this gift to everyone. They can drink the blood of hope, and I can take control, and lead them in the name of God. No more pain, no more suffering. Can you picture how wonderful it would be?”

He knew that what she was saying was wrong, but the thought of being at her side, the thought of his pain being taken away and laid on someone else’s shoulders, that sounded so much like paradise to him that he could no longer fight against it. He wanted her, always, in whatever form she took, and he was so tired of trying to deny it. He was so tired of trying to pull her back from the darkness. Would it not be better to sink with her, wrapped in her arms and bathing in the warmth of the eclipsed sun she had become?

“Yes.”

She smiled, leaning down and tilting his head up with her delicate fingers. She pressed her lips against his, and the whole world faded away, joy returning to his heart after he thought it had been long gone and dead. There was light in the world because she willed it, grace because she created it. She was the sun, orchestrating the dance of the cosmos and allowing them all to rotate around her, a fixed point of brilliance that shone in defiance of a universe filled with darkness. He was hers, he would always be hers, and he never wanted to face a different reality again.

She pulled away slowly, the smile on her face stretching too wide to be friendly. She pulled something curved and silver off the top of the table, and when she shook it in her hand he heard the small peal of a bell. The door opened, and several robed figures entered, walking up to his chair and yanking him out of it with rough and uncaring hands.

“Rika?!” he tried to reach for her but he was held back, the cultists possessing extraordinary strength from the chemicals in their system.

“Paradise is only for the worthy. Those that can turn away from their love when she needed them most don’t deserve such things.” She laughed, an awful mimicry of the joy that she had held in her heart when they had first met. Her minions dragged him away, and he stared at her until she was out of sight. He was a frail man, his resolve weak, but he was glad that she hated him so. It would at least propel him to do the right thing, knowing that he would never have her love again while the darkness gripped her heart. He would have to start fighting for the light if he ever wanted to see her shine like the sun again.


	60. Lost Little Lambs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the agency is planning something and V is thrown in jail. And Vanderwood is apparently salty as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went in weird directions I don't even know what is happening anymore. I HOPE IT IS ACCEPTABLE.

Goldi peered through the binoculars, careful to hold them far enough away from her face so that she didn’t smear her makeup across the lenses. The building was a towering green monolith in the middle of nowhere, tucked in the mountains far out of sight from any prying eyes that might get curious. It was so far off the beaten path that it would be impossible to stumble upon it by accident. Something about it didn’t sit right with her. It looked perfectly clean and respectable, and maybe that was what unsettled her. Something so polished didn’t belong in the middle of the wild mountainside. Plus, nobody in their right mind built this far out unless they had something to hide.

Mikleo hovered at her elbow, twitching in a way that let her know that she had something to say. She lowered the binoculars to look at her, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t speak quickly enough.

“Ma’am, we’ve confirmed that the tracker places her somewhere in that building, and she hasn’t moved for several hours.” She tilted her laptop around so Goldi could appraise the information, looking at charts drawn across graphed maps. “We believe that she’s underground, based on the coordinates. We also believe she is being held captive.”

Goldi grunted, not quite sure what she wanted to make of that information. “Are the boys with her? The twins?” she’d let Vanderwood rot in hell before she gave up either one of those little luck charms. If she was the only one stuffed in the basement, then Goldi would turn around and go home, waiting for her to either die or lead her to the real prize at the end of this fucked up rainbow.

“We believe so, ma’am. We were able to pull up the system memory in the tracker, and the location they left from this morning was near the cabin in the woods that Team Lutz used to use after missions. We surmised that she was probably laying low with them. At some point they left, or were taken, and based on the tracks we’ve seen along the perimeter of the building it looks like three individuals were dragged through the yard.”

“Three, huh?” she rolled her tongue across her teeth. If she were to guess, she would say whatever vendetta the runty brother had against 707 had come home to roost, so she doubted that he was one of the ones being held. Vanderwood and 707 would have been targets, especially considering the number of times Vanderwood had smacked the twitchy fucker upside the head. So then, who was the third? “Was the girl with them? The one that drove the car?”

Mikleo shrugged. “Possibly. We think that’s the safest bet, since she was with them when they arrived at tango site.”

“Good. I’d like to pay her back for all the meddling she managed to do with my property.” Goldi brought the binoculars back up to her face, a slow grin spreading across her lips. “Fan out, surround the building, and report anything suspicious. I want everyone ready to infiltrate on my mark.”

Mikleo bounced a nervous nod before bounding off to do as she had been told, and Goldi watched the front door, giving her people time to get into position.

_Come out, come out wherever you are, lost little lambs._

She licked her lips, anticipating how sweet it would taste to claim their futures for her name.

***

They all jumped as the door at the end of the hall opened, and they scurried to adjust themselves so that they could put their hands behind their backs. Nicky had to help Saeyoung get his right, and he grit his teeth against the pain when she had to move his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered the apology against his ear before pulling away, her own wrist feeling like it was a balloon of pain and misery attached to her arm. If he would have said something in return she would never know, as their chance faded when a group of cultists shuffled down the hall. They were dragging someone between them, and at first she couldn’t see who it was, but when they opened the cell and dumped him inside like so much trash she recognized V. He landed on his hands and knees and remained there, staring at the floor with a bitter look on his face, his hair hanging over his eyes. The cultists then closed and locked the door without another word.

Vanderwood jumped forward, pressing her face against the bars and keeping her hands clasped behind her. “Hey! You plan on doing anything with us anytime soon? Hey, weirdos, I’m talking to you!” Nicky heard the door slam shut, the sound of footsteps nothing more than an echo, and Vanderwood sighed and turned to glare at V.

Saeyoung startled her by pushing himself to his feet, and she gasped as he wavered there, groaning in pain. She scrambled to follow him, but he was already three steps ahead of her, and he walked the short distance of the cell in the blink of an eye. He lifted his leg and landed a savage kick against V’s ribs, and he grunted and rolled away, gasping for air as he slammed into the wall.

“No!” she rushed forward, grabbing Saeyoung’s left elbow and pulling him back, trying to hold onto him with just one arm. “Saeyoung, please, don’t.”

He turned to face her, his eyes wild with anger. “Seriously? After everything he put you through?”

“Yes, seriously. I don’t want you beating him up in a jail cell.” She set her jaw as he looked at her, and his anger broke in an instant. When the rage failed, so too did his energy, and he sagged against her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…you shouldn’t have to…” he shook his head, and he looked like he was getting ready to pass out, so she started to ease him back to the ground.

“Hush. I understand, okay? Just settle down, you need to rest.” She kissed his forehead, which brought the smallest smile to his lips. He looked up at her adoringly again, though his eyes were moving in and out of focus. He didn’t look like he was fully present in the moment anymore, and she wished she had something to try and bring down his fever.

“I love you.”

Vanderwood huffed from the other end of the cell, and Nicky realized that she had gone to stand over V with her foot on his neck. “Yes, we all love you. So if he doesn’t get to beat him up, does that mean I can’t either?”

She considered V’s face, and his eyes seemed to dart around the room without seeing anything. She could see the clouds hovering over the coloring, thick strands of milky white drifting where only the black of his pupils should have been. He was half blind, and from the look on his face he was a broken man, so much sorrow and regret etched into one frown that she wondered how he could stand it. Or maybe he couldn’t, and that was why he wasn’t struggling against the boot grinding into his wind pipe.

“No, Vanderwood, let him go.”

Vanderwood complied, stepping away from him to stand and glare with her arms crossed over her chest.

V looked at her, squinting as he frowned. “You have a level head in a difficult situation.”

“No, I’ve just gotten really used to difficult situations.” She tried to cross her own arms over her chest, then winced when it hurt her wrist, so she settled for leaning against the wall. Saeyoung wrapped his left hand around her leg, as though he needed to hold on to her for support, but she didn’t comment on it because if she were being honest she needed the connection right now. Seeing V evoked a great many complicated feelings inside of her that she was positive she was too exhausted to deal with. _Weak. Worthless._ She shook her head, dispelling the thoughts, but it was difficult not to remember Rika’s abuse when the man that had been her fiancé was laying before them.

V grimaced and sat up, wiping the dust from his palms against his pants. “That’s fair. I know it’s not worth anything, but I’m sorry. For everything that you’ve been through.”

“ _I_ _’m_ not the person you should be apologizing to.”

“Shouldn’t I, though? You never would have been dragged into this if it weren’t for my mistakes.” He rested his hands against his knees, hanging his head.

Saeyoung remained silent, but his fingers tensed against her leg. She knew without needing him to say anything that he needed answers, and she also knew that he was too angry to ask any questions. She sighed. “What were your mistakes, then?”

“There are so many, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Vanderwood snorted, looking at him with unfiltered disgust. “Well, it’s not like we have anywhere to be, so why don’t you answer the lovely girl’s questions? The only reason I haven’t smashed your face in is out of respect to her. She could probably hold Fever-boy back, but if I decide I want to kick your ass regardless of her feelings, I’m pretty sure I’ll get away with it.”

V chuckled. “You’re charming.”

“ _You_ burst through a cabin this morning and kidnapped me. Do you really wanna keep pushing your luck, asshole?”

He winced as though her words were physical blows, turning his filtered gaze back to Nicky. “I suppose I have no choice.”

“You do. You always have a choice. However we’re not very big fans of secrets lately, so I suggest picking the truth.”

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the rough wall. “Very well. What do you want to know?”

“How about we start with what you did to my brother.” Saeyoung spat the words, his eyes flashing with anger again, and she brushed her leg against his shoulder in a silent plea to calm him. He took a deep breath, and when he didn’t start shouting she knew that he had heard her request.

“I didn’t do anything to him, which I am well aware is part of the problem. I didn’t lie to you, you know. When I made that plan with Rika, I had every intention of seeing it through. I had picked out a boarding school not far from the church, and I had carved out time in my schedule to be able to visit and ensure everything was going well. I would have done it without the money, but Rika persuaded me that we would need the funds in case your father appeared. I listened, because I always listened to her.”

Nicky heard the sorrow in his voice, but she pressed him further anyhow. “Then what happened?”

“Rika. That will be the answer to that question many times tonight, if you care to listen. Rika happened.” He ran his hand through his hair, sending it scattering in different directions before it settled back into the same place, hanging over one of his eyes. “She used the money for something else, and every time I brought up returning for Saeran she would have an excuse for why we couldn’t go yet. I finally talked her into making sure he was sent to school, but that was the extent of what I could accomplish. He lived with your mother until he disappeared one day. I didn’t know until later that Rika had moved him on her own. I had always assumed your father got to him.”

Saeyoung’s fingers were clamped around her leg, and she was furious on his behalf. “Why would she do that?” Nicky’s heart broke for Saeran, who must have been so terrified after his brother had disappeared. How could Rika have allowed that to happen to a little boy? How could she have sold one of them out only to let the other suffer? “How could she just lie to them like that?”

“Rika was sick. That’s the only answer I can ever come up with.” he shrugged, helpless to provide a better reason. “I noticed that things were wrong a short time after we had been dating. She would be prone to sudden mood shifts, or long bouts of time where she would ask strange questions. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after I asked her to see a therapist. She started treatment, but…it never went well. She would often quit, and I usually tried to get her to restart. Sometimes she would, but…at some point I think she stopped caring. Or it got too hard.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Saeyoung was looking at V without venom this time, the light in his eyes shocked and wounded more than anything.

“To what end? So that I could explain to you that your brother’s happy ending wasn’t as good as it was supposed to be? That you had given up your life for no reason?”

Saeyoung glowered, the anger returning. “You should have told me. You should have told me the second she took the money. You should have told me so that I could have gone back for him.”

“What good would that have done?”

Nicky clenched her right hand into a fist, trying to keep herself together. “What good did keeping it a secret do? Look around you, V. Look where we’ve ended up.” She gestured at the dungeon walls, at the gloomy cell, at the injuries lining their bodies. “If you hadn’t lied to protect her none of this might have happened. Someone could have helped you. Someone could have protected Saeran.”

“You’re right.” Tears slid down V’s cheeks, and he held his head in his hands as he started to cry. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. I just…I love her so much. I just want to help her, but I don’t know how. I didn’t want anyone else to see what she was becoming. I didn’t want them to have to see the parts of her that I did. I thought everyone would be happier if I just let them see her light.”

“You could have at least told me. Or Jumin.” Saeyoung’s voice broke as he spoke. “He would have wanted to know what was happening to her.”

“Jumin was so busy trying to hold things together with his father, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him for help. And you…you never let anybody see how much you struggled under the weight of your job. How could I ask you for help when she had betrayed you and was responsible for the life you hated?”

“No. Those are excuses. They’re unacceptable.” Saeyoung’s fury was a fine edge on each syllable, and V looked like he felt the slice of each one.

“You all loved Rika so much. How could I take that away from her with the truth? She was my burden. She was my responsibility.”

“Oh my god.” Vanderwood threw her hands in the air, surprising all of them with her outburst. “All of you are such ridiculous do-gooders, I swear to god I should strangle the lot of you. _Stop trying to do everything by yourselves._ For fuck’s sake, you have this whole little mushy family and all of you run around like chickens with your heads cut off, trying to pretend it ain’t blood smeared along your neck and screaming to everybody that it’s jam. And don’t look at me like you aren’t _all_ guilty of it.”

“Did…” Saeyoung blinked up at her, his expression blank. “Did you just call us zombie chickens covered in jam?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply as Nicky had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “Yes, dumb ass, _that_ was the point.” Her sarcasm was not lost on them, though the humor of the moment faded quickly as V sniffed miserably.

Nicky cleared her throat. “Colorful delivery aside, she has a point. Letting everyone think that she was fine didn’t help anyone.”

“I know. I made so many mistakes…and once I started lying I couldn’t bring myself to stop. So, when I couldn’t stop her from forming this organization, I made up her death so that nobody in the RFA could know. I kept trying to find ways to help her, but all I ever did was make it worse.”

Saeyoung’s fingers tightened around her leg again, his face drawn. “Did you know who had sent Nicky to the apartment?”

“No, but I assumed it had something to do with Rika. I didn’t find out that it was Saeran until I came here and went undercover to learn whatever I could about it.”

Nicky reached down and let her fingers brush Saeyoung’s shoulder, trying to comfort him as best she could. “Then why didn’t you say anything when you returned?”

“Because by the time I got back and retrieved my phone everything had already fallen apart. Saeran had already been to the apartment, and you were staying with Jumin. I didn’t think the truth would make any of you feel any better.”

“Because you’re stupid.” Vanderwood glowered, and Nicky shot her a warning glance. “What? We were all thinking it.”

“It’s fine, I deserve that.”

“You deserve a kick in the head.” This time when Nicky glared at her she rolled her eyes, looking back down at V. “But the Disney princess over here would probably shed magical tears if I did, so I won’t.”

He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Disney princess, huh? I suppose that suits you.” His shoulders sagged, and now that he had spoken so much truth he didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He met her gaze, and it was then that she thought she could understand. Not what he did, because she didn’t think she could ever do something so careless herself, but…she understood the why behind it. She looked down at Saeyoung, and thought of that terrible day in the apartment, when he had thought hurting her was the only way to save her, and she thought of how she had felt the entire time. She would have done anything to make him smile, even if it had meant hiding everything that was happening. If she had gotten it in her head that it would have helped, she wouldn’t have breathed a single word to anyone. Although, not if she thought it was hurting everyone else, and that seemed to be the part that V couldn’t see. He was so wrapped up in his anguish over Rika’s pain that he couldn’t stop himself from passing it on to others. Yes, it would have hurt them to know what Rika was becoming, but it wasn’t as though none of them had known things weren’t off in some way. When they thought she had died, none of them had been able to recover or move on, and that was in part because deep down they all knew something wasn’t true about the story. Lies created greater rifts between friends than arguments, and this one had nearly torn the entire RFA apart.

“Listen, Saeyoung, Nicolette. I’m so sorry that things have come to this. I’m sorry that my failure has put you in this situation.” Saeyoung turned his head away from him, and she knew that he was not going to be able to move past this easily. She couldn’t fault him for it. V had changed the course of his entire life, and that hadn’t turned out so well for either of them so far. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I do mean it.” He shifted, digging through the pocket in his jacket for a moment and pulling something out and clutching it in his hands. “I hope you’ll at least let me help you get out of this so you can live your life together the way you deserve.” He opened his fingers, and there was a phone resting against his palm.

Saeyoung’s eyes grew wide, and he tried to sit up but yelped in pain as soon as he had moved an inch. She stepped forward quickly and took the device, to keep him from trying again. She clicked on the screen, and there was only two percent battery life left, so she quickly put it back to sleep. “It’s almost dead.”

“Do you still have the RFA chatroom?” Saeyoung looked towards V, who nodded. “Nicky, log in and leave a message for Jumin in the chat. Give him our coordinates and ask him to send help.”

She nodded her head, and Saeyoung rattled off the coordinates to her a few times. She made sure she had them memorized, then took a deep breath. She would only have a couple seconds at most to send the messages before she would be out of battery life, so she was going to have to type faster than she ever had before.

She closed her eyes, sent out a silent prayer that this would work, and then unlocked the phone and opened the app.

****

**_V has entered the chatroom._ **

**V: Not V, Nicky**

**V: Call Jumin**

**V: 40.46 N 111.89 W coordinates**

**V: Rika is alive, leading cult**

**V: Holding us prisoner, please send help**

**V: Rika is hostile, we are injured**

She started typing “please hurry and be careful” but the screen went dead, and she had run out of time. She handed the phone back to V and turned to Saeyoung, his eyes wide as he waited for the verdict.

“I sent everything except ‘be careful’, so hopefully they receive it soon.” She leaned against the wall and sank down until she was sitting beside Saeyoung again, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you, love.”

She smiled, though she didn’t feel like it stretched beyond her stiff lips. “It was just a text.” She wished it could have been more. She wished there were something else, but now she was back to where she had started, waiting for someone else to rescue her.

Mostly she wished she could be there for her friends when her awful words shattered the last vestiges of the lies that V had told. None of them were going to be okay after this, and she only prayed they could get through it as the family that she desperately wanted them to be.


	61. Hostile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the RFA receives the message in the chatroom.

He had been in and out of the chatroom since the evening before. He had logged in and stared at the empty hours where none of them had dared to talk, seeing nothing but a list of names entering and exiting. The emails weighed heavily in the back of his mind, but they were quickly replaced by the unending worry over their friends that had walked into danger and then fallen silent. He was at a loss over what he should do over the matter, and the indecision drove him to near madness so that he had given Jaehee the day off and excused himself from work. Neither of them were in a state fit to conduct business. He had offered her company if she did not wish to be alone, but she had, of course, spurned the offer in favor of rushing to Zen. He had no objections, though he did wish his apartment contained more than the rumble of Elizabeth the 3rd’s purr. Loneliness was a bitter creature once he had started to pay attention to it.

He unlocked his phone and opened the chatroom for what must have been the hundredth time since he had awoken at dawn. He expected to see nothing once more, disappointment and mounting fear his only reward for his persistence, but this time something had changed. He blinked down at the screen, his vision blurring as he recognized the icon, and for a moment he was too furious and hurt to read the words that accompanied it. How could he? How dare he return only when the rest of them were too overcome to respond? Why was it that the only time he bothered to slink back into their lives was when it was inconvenient and destructive?

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and willing the roaring empty and the freezing fear to recede so that he could focus. When he opened his eyes again he was able to read the words on the screen, and the panic came crawling back with scrabbling claws and gnashing teeth, tearing into any composure that he had left so that he had to gasp for breath as his lungs compressed of their own volition. This couldn’t be possible. He could not accept the words as truth. He could not accept the intersection of lies and myth that this string of rushed messages created. _Rika is alive._

That was not the message, though, and the full extent of meaning when he strung them all together dragged him down into a place that was darker than the one that had driven him to kiss a girl that didn’t want him. The woman who he had once held as the standard to which all women should be upheld was not only _not_ resting peacefully, but she was leading the organization that had been responsible for threatening Nicolette, that had been responsible for trying to tear the RFA apart, and was now sinking to new levels of depravity by holding people he cared about as hostages. _We are injured._

He packed his panic back down, reminding himself that whatever had occurred beyond their reach, there was still something that he should be doing about it. Nicolette had asked him for help, and it did not matter what circumstances surrounded it, he would never fail to answer that call. He switched to his contacts, pulling up Jaehee’s information and pressing the button to call her. She answered before the first ring even faded, and he had never been more grateful for her efficiency.

“Any news?”

“Yes, log into the chatroom if you want the details, but I need you to contact the security team immediately after. I’m going to speak with the police. Please handle this with all urgency.”

“Did something happen?” she sounded alarmed, as panicked as he felt.

“Yes. Brace yourself, it is…I have no words. Please alert the others as soon as you are able.” He disconnected the line, his fingers feeling numb and foreign as he did so. He hung his head, trying to remember what it felt like to breathe, trying to visualize air in his lungs that was placid against the raging hurricane that was overwhelming him. He didn’t bother to stop the tears, because he was so focused on keeping his heart from stopping in his chest. It seemed that if his blood kept flowing, so too did his anguish, and rivers of salted sorrow surged across his cheeks.

He had just felt like he had started to move forward, but now his past had come crawling out of the grave to remind him of everything that he had lost or never had. Rika had meant so much to him. From their very first conversation he had found himself begrudgingly charmed by her wit and kind heart. He had watched her relationship develop with his best friend, and he had been thrilled at all the happiness that they shared together. She had always shined brighter when V had been next to her.

He had always felt that there would be no person he could ever meet that would compare to her, no woman that held the same depth and intelligence that she had. She had been so sincere whenever she spoke to him, weighing his words carefully before giving him articulate and genuine responses. She had never been false, and had never coddled him with empty platitudes. She had never been his, either, but he had held no grudges in that regard. No one else could come close to her brilliance, and that brilliance being enhanced by her love with V had been what was important to him. When he had found out about her death, he had wept harder than he ever had before. It was the first time he could ever remember feeling crushed over something, finally understanding emotions so overwhelming that he had been driven to curl up on the floor, clinging to the carpet in case his tears dissolved him into nothingness. He had been so sure that he would never be able to connect with another person again, because he could never risk experiencing the same despair.

Nicolette had changed things. She had been different, and she had not only pried open the walls of armor around his heart, but she had convinced them that they should not have been there in the first place. Initially he had thought her similar to Rika, as they both had a way about them that spoke of an understanding of the human heart that was nigh mystical compared to his own. Yet, there were so many times where he had expected one reaction out of Nicolette and received another. She did not calculate her responses, as Rika had always done. There was no pause between the question and the answer, no hesitation before she willingly showed her reaction. She had kept shadows to herself, locking them inside to keep them from infecting those around her, but there was nothing else she had been unwilling to share. Even things that she shouldn’t have, even things that she had meant to hold for another, she had never resented him for taking them. The kiss that he had ripped from her lips was meant for Saeyoung, and he knew that now with more clarity than anything else in his disastrous life. Much like Rika and V, he could not be unhappy once he had seen the joy they brought to each other. Unlike Rika and V, however, watching Saeyoung and Nicolette had made him feel like there was more to the world than accepting his loneliness. He knew that he was not yet ready for that kind of depth with someone, but Nicolette had made him feel like some day he might be. Jumin Han could fall in love someday, if he wished, and he no longer felt terrified of that.

Both women had irrevocably changed him, and now one was allegedly pitted against the other. _Rika is hostile, we are injured._ What could have made the girl with that he remembered ever resemble the word “hostile”? How could any of this be real?

He held his head in his hands and continued crying, because he was incapable of anything else at the moment. He was afraid for Nicolette, he was reeling over Rika, and he didn’t have enough information to silence to relentless questions churning in his head. Jumin crumbled, and he allowed himself to crumble, and the last part of him that retained its composure was dedicated to another silent prayer, sent to a god that had a cruel sense of humor.

_Please, whatever happens, let us all be okay._

_***_

He was a block away when his phone rang, and Zen’s winking face peered up at him on the screen. He had been clutching it in his hand since he had left the dorm, rushing out in a blind panic as fast as he could. He hadn’t even taken the time to post it in the chat, because there was no time to waste. He could explain when he got to Jumin and gathered everyone there, but right now he just needed to move. It was the first time he had ever hated just how far away the campus was from the high rises downtown.

He slowed his pace and hit the green button to answer the call, breathing heavily around his greeting but refusing to stand still. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Have you seen the chatroom?” Zen’s voice sounded like someone had poured glass down his throat, which gave Yoosung enough pause that he very nearly stopped his forward motion, stumbling as his toe caught against a crack in the sidewalk.

“Are you okay?”

“You haven’t seen it, then.” He heard something that sounded like a sob in the background, and the line rustled as Zen moved around. “Yoosung, you need to go look right now.” He heard Jaehee’s voice mumble something, but he couldn’t make out the words. “I can’t!” Zen wailed his response to her, and now Yoosung could hear the tears in his words. “I can’t say it out loud, not to him.”

He stopped walking, coming to a complete halt in the middle of the walkway. They were too late. But they couldn’t be, because he had been given a time. Had he been lied to? Was it all some sick joke? He glanced at his watch, and it read 4:17 pm. They still had six hours before the email said they had to be there. It couldn’t be what he thought it was, because he was promised that Nicky and Saeyoung would be waiting. They couldn’t be dead.

“Zen, oh god, is it Nicky?” his voice shook, and he tried to breathe but the only thing that filled his lungs was ice.

“Oh Yoosung.” Zen sobbed, sounding more broken than he had ever heard him before, and he stumbled, his knees growing weak as he fell forward. He grabbed the post of a sign to keep himself upright, clinging to it like a lifeline in a storm.

He heard the phone rustle, and there was a loud sniff before Jaehee took over the call. “Yoosung, it’s not just Nicky, it’s Rika. We g-got a m-message, in the-the-” she had to stop and breathe because the sobs were garbling her words and making her stutter uncontrollably. “Nicky sent a message saying that Rika is alive, and-and…” she couldn’t finish, dissolving into tears that felt like knives digging into the back of his neck. He had never heard Jaehee cry before, and he knew that he never wanted to hear it again.

He hung up the call, swiping away from the still open email message and switching to the RFA app, pulling up the chatroom. He read the words, then read them over again, and then again, still unable to comprehend them. _Hostile?_ It was like a word spelled in a foreign tongue, weird and unbidden when displayed next to her name. He held the phone in his shaking hands, staring at the screen, and he tried to piece his sanity back together. _Alive. She was alive._ He had been right. Her death had never made sense, and he had always known it. _You don_ _’t want the truth. You don’t want to know what happened._ V had stood in his dorm and admitted his lies, and Yoosung had let him walk away because he was furious and worried about everyone else. The lie was so much worse than he ever could have imagined. _Alive._ He had made them attend her funeral. He had made them _mourn_ for her. _You don_ _’t want to know what happened._ She was alive after all, and now she was holding Nicky and Saeyoung hostage.

His phone started ringing again, Zen’s face occupying the screen, and he answered, moving forward on the sidewalk again as quickly as he could to make up for lost time. “Hey, I saw.” His voice sounded as raw and awful as Zen’s. He wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but now he could feel the wetness to his cheeks as the wind slapped against them. “I’m outside Jumin’s place, and you need to get here as quickly as possible. I’ll explain when you’re here.”

“Yoosung, I think we should try to stay put -”

“I got another email. Just get here, okay?” he clicked off the call and started running, propelling himself forward as fast as he could. He reached the doors and waited impatiently for the automatic sensors to trigger and let him in. He barely gave the glass time to slide apart before he was rushing through and racing across the lobby, his fist slamming into the elevator button and his pace carrying him in before the doorman even had time to react. He shuffled his feet and tried to catch his breath as the chamber ascended to the top of the building, carrying him to his destination. When the doors chimed open he strode down the hallway with nods to the security guards, and he could hear one of them speaking into his mic informing the security team that Yoosung had ditched to get here that he was safe. He ignored them and pounded on Jumin’s door.

It took him several moments before he finally heard the handle turning, and Jumin opened the door and peered at him from the other side, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Yoosung didn’t wait for him to invite him in, but pushed himself against the door and walked into the dining area, pacing because he didn’t know what else to do with himself.

“How did you get here so fast?” Jumin’s voice was hoarse, and he hated that they all sounded like they had been crying for a hundred years.

“Because I left an hour ago.” He swiped through the screens on his phone and opened the email again, staring at it with more worry now that he thought he might know who had sent it.

**Yoosung,**

**You were always the most devoted of the RFA members. The others cared, and they participated, but never once did they feel dedicated to the cause. You would have died for it. You would have happily sold your soul if it meant that joy and success could be brought to those you loved. You are the most altruistic, and for that reason the most cherished. Your betrayal can be forgiven.**

**That** **’s why this invitation is for you. I know you will share it, and I know you will convince them to attend. It’s vital that all of you come.**

**If you want to see Nicolette and Saeyoung alive ever again, you will arrive at the below address at promptly 10pm this evening to pay your respects. I expect all of you to be dressed appropriately for the occasion, and I will not tolerate lateness.**

**She** **’s fascinating, you know. Nicolette, and her hold over people. She has such grand ideas in that little heart of hers. I feel like I would like to pick it apart, to see how it works. Would you like to help me? You were always such a wonderful helper. You can help me understand what it is that made her so malignant amongst you. How she spread her sappy ideals through each of you like cancer. I would like to understand that. I know you’ll help me with it. I know it.**

**I look forward to seeing everyone. You most of all.**

Yoosung tore his eyes away from the message, holding the phone out so that Jumin could read it. He watched his expression sink from stern to grim, and when he had finished they locked their eyes together, terror shared between them in equal measure.

“There’s no time. It will take another three hours to mobilize any kind of team, and by the time they all arrive it will be far too late.”

Yoosung swallowed, his hands shaking. “Then we can’t wait. We need to go without them.”

“The others?”

“Already on their way, I spoke to them on my way over.”

Jumin nodded, his jaw clenched like forged steel. “Good. I’ll have a car prepared, and we’ll set out as soon as they arrive.”

Yoosung breathed a sigh of relief as Jumin rushed down the hallway, stepping into his home office and closing the door. He shuffled his own way across the room and sat on the couch, wishing that he could collapse on the ground and never get back up again. He couldn’t even face the truth of all the things that he had learned over the course of the day, nor could he make it make sense with anything that he had known before. It was madness, all of it, and now he was about to rush headlong into danger to try and stop as much of it as he could.

He held up his phone and navigated into his text messages, pulling up the thread that had Anna’s lovely face smiling up at him. They had been chatting non-stop since the end of their date, right up until he had received the email and told her he had to go. Now the conversation was halted, the last message glaring up at him with the request that he come back soon. If this went wrong he would never see her again, and maybe that was for the best. Maybe he shouldn’t drag her into his life if it was only going to be full of darkness. Still, he thought of how she would feel if he disappeared without a trace, and what she would think if he simply never messaged her back. He didn’t want her to ever think it was because of her, so he started typing to make sure she understood as much as he could tell her.

**Yoosung: Listen, I just want you to know that talking to you these past few days has felt like it** **’s been saving my life. You put a smile on my face every time I receive one of you messages, and every time I put down my phone I feel like I’m just waiting for the next one. I just wanted to make sure you know that in case I don’t get the chance to say it again.**

**Anna: ??**

**Anna: I mean, I feel the same, but what** **’s this all about?**

**Yoosung: I can** **’t explain.**

**Anna: Yoosung, you** **’re scaring me.**

**Yoosung: I have to do something really important, but I couldn** **’t leave without saying something. I wanted you to know that if you don’t hear from me again, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to see you anymore. Don’t think that it was because of you, because you’re wonderful, okay?**

**Anna: That** **’s not okay. You can’t talk like that.**

**Anna: If you** **’re in trouble I want to help.**

**Anna: Please, just tell me what** **’s wrong.**

**Yoosung: I have to go. Please, have a wonderful day, okay?**

He put his phone to sleep and switched it to silent, letting the buzz of her messages vibrate the middle of his palm. He didn’t look at them, because he was sure they were going to make him cry. He had never had to leave someone behind before, and it hurt a lot more than he had expected. How had Saeyoung survived it twice? How had any of them survived anything this past week?

He didn’t have any answers, so he tilted his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, praying for a miracle to make the madness stop.


	62. Don't Listen to Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rika continues to be terrible.

The door at the end of the hall opened and they heard the brisk footsteps of a single person enter, so they scrambled to place their hands behind their backs once more. Saeyoung barely had the energy to flinch when Nicky shifted his arm. There was pain, screaming, raging pain, but it felt like it was far away from him. His head was floating on the rings of Saturn while his body was still down on Earth. Nicky kissed his cheek, her lips cool against his burning skin, and he tried to stay strong for her. He blinked, trying to regain his focus, trying to bring himself back to the moment. He couldn’t fade away, not now and not ever.

When Rika stepped into the meager light around the cell it had the same effect on him as a cold slap in the face. He grit his teeth, trying to control the horrible rush of emotions that were brought to bear at the sight of her. She was the woman in the church, just as he remembered, only she had been drained of everything that had made her shine and now she was a vacuous hole, sapping the joy from the room. Her gaze swept over them, a queen surveying maggots, and when she smiled it looked like a ripped seam on a bloody sweater.

“Hello.” Her voice was honeyed, and none of them responded. She feigned disappointment, frowning, but it was no less horrific than the smile. “I see. Oh, but Luciel, you don’t look well. I have people that could help. Would you like me to send for a doctor?”

“Yes” “No.” He had uttered his refusal even as Nicky had breathed assent, and he glanced at her to see the worry swimming in her gaze. He didn’t want to take a single thing from this nightmare version of Rika, but Nicky looked like she would have been willing to deal with the devil himself if it meant easing his pain. He loved her for it, but he also wished that he lived in another world where her lovely face never had to grimace in pain, where she never had to consort with monsters for the promise of aid.

Rika laughed, and he was surprised at how much the sound made him want to backhand her across the face. “The little dove disagrees with you. Does it bother you, Nicolette? That he would refuse help and choose to suffer?”

Nicky glared at her. “Of course it does. It should bother you, too.”

“I know that his suffering is temporary.” Rika shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I know that I will raise him up from his pain and grant him peace eternal. What can _you_ offer him?”

“I…” Nicky blinked, her mouth open and hanging wordlessly. Enough. He was done with this cruelty towards the nicest person in the world.

“Leave her alone.” He dropped the ruse and shifted his weight so that he could pull his left arm free and wrap it around her.

Rika laughed again, taking in his free hand and his request with a bitter sound crawling out of her throat. It was the opposite of music. “You’re so easily swayed. Was she the first pretty girl that ever gave you attention? Is that why you have become so obsessed with such a plain, worthless thing?”

“She’s not plain, or worthless.”

“The beggar, blind to beauty, will always be swayed by the first flower in his sight.” Rika shook her head, pity in her gaze. The expression was hauntingly familiar, and he wondered how many times she had spoken to him with it before. How many times had she pretended to be holy while she had been rotting from within?

“She’s _not_ the first girl I’ve been with, and your stupid mind games won’t change how I feel about her.” He held Nicky tighter, wishing that he knew the words to banish the awful demon before them. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this world where Rika was alive and spiteful and Nicky was treated like a pawn.

“Mind games? My, my. I thought you liked to play.” Her smile stretched wider, a threat more than anything. “Silly games, anything to hide the truth. You and I were never so different. You lied with a smile just as often as I had.”

Nicky sucked in a breath, her eyes wide and full of anger this time. “You’ve just been toying with them. All of them. All the time that you knew them, you were just…just messing with their emotions.”

“Emotions are tools. Implements of pain or pleasure.” Rika was unmoved by Nicky’s accusation, unmoved by the passion in her voice. She was unmoved by anything, a statue erected in monument to callousness. “Why shouldn’t I use them to get what I want?”

“They loved you.” Nicky clenched the fingers of her good hand together, balling it into a fist. “They cared about you so much. How could you take that and twist it into something so shallow? How could you ever look at any of them and not want to protect them from everything in this world?”

“How much do you imagine you even know about them, hm?” Rika narrowed her eyes, her attention zeroed in on the injured girl trapped in the cell. “Would you like to play a game of trivia? Tell me, what happened to Jumin’s mother? What was it that brought Zen into the RFA? Why does Yoosung have a bracelet with the name ‘Sally’ etched into the rim? Where did Jaehee go to college, and what was her major?” she spat the questions rapidly, each one the dizzying strike of a snake whose fangs leeched the life out of Nicky. “Or perhaps you know more about the man you’ve chosen to defile with your sin. Who is his father? Who is his mother? How much did he weigh when he came crawling into a church, shivering like a starving dog?”

Nicky’s anger broke, and he watched her expression fall while she filled with pain. “I…”

“Rika…” V whispered the name, and Saeyoung could see that he was aghast at her words, yet still helpless against her. She glared at him and he fell silent again.

Saeyoung leaned closer to Nicky, tilting his head as he tried to meet her gaze. “Nicky, don’t listen to her.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Nicky didn’t look at him, but raised her eyes to meet Rika’s. “I don’t need to know any of those things to know that I love them. They can tell me when they’re ready, and it won’t change the fact that they’re my family, and I’ll always protect them. You think that you’re better than me because you’ve known them longer? Fine. Maybe you are. It doesn’t matter, though, because I will never stop doing everything in my power to make them happy.”

For a fraction of a second Rika was the picture of rage and distemper, but the oil-slick smile returned after that, and she tilted back her head and laughed once more. “Your power? What power is that? Do you imagine yourself pure because you’ve been honest with them? Is that our great difference?” she waved her hand, gesturing to the miserable group huddled in the cell. “Look around you, little dove. Look at the blood and the bruises, look at the pain and the misery. You can point the finger at me if you wish, if it makes you feel better, but how much of it can also be laid at your feet? I was not the one that pulled the trigger of the gun that sent a bullet into Luciel’s shoulder. I was not the one that put him in the position to get hit by it.” She leaned forward, wrapping her thin fingers around the cold iron bars. “I can see it in your eyes. You could have done something to prevent it. If you had been better, he wouldn’t have been hurt.” Nicky lost the last of her composure and dissolved into tears, and Rika looked exultant.

“Shut up.” He growled the words, so angry that he could hardly contain it.

“Tell me I’m wrong, then.”

“You’re wrong.” He didn’t even hesitate, the words leaving his lips before her demand had even finished.

Rika giggled, and it was bubbling tar in a pit of malice. “The little dove disagrees. She knows I’m right. She knows she has no power. She knows that there is a trail of blood and pain that falls from her heels, and she knows that if she weren’t such a weak, mewling little wretch then she could prevent it. Nicolette, would you die for them? If you could end all their pain, would you die? I could make that happen. I could grant that wish and end your life, so that your burden could never harm them again.”

“Stop it!” the shout ripped through his throat leaving a trail of fire behind. “You’re wrong. Nicky, Nicky don’t listen to her. That’s not true at all!” he pulled her closer, wishing that he could turn her head with his other hand so that she would look at him.

Rika chuckled and turned away, walking back down the path she had come. V stumbled to his feet and ran to the bars, shoving his hand between them and reaching for the retreating monster. “Rika! Rika, this isn’t what you really want. Please, stop this! It doesn’t have to be this way!”

She didn’t turn around when she spoke, and her voice was dull and bored. “It was always this way, V. You were just too blind to see it.”

Nicky collapsed into tears, bringing her hand up to cover her face as sobs worked their way past her lips. He hated this. He hated seeing her reduced to this by the words of someone that he had thought loved them all. Rika had become a creature of spite, and it no longer mattered to him if she had been that way before. She was loathsome now, and she had said things to Nicky that were completely unforgivable.

“Love, space princess, come on.” He nuzzled the side of her cheek, kissing her ear as he tried to hold her closer and calm her down. “Don’t listen to her, okay?”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “But it’s true! All I’ve done since you met me is get into danger and get other people hurt trying to get out of it.”

“You aren’t responsible for the things that have happened! None of it was your fault!”

“I know, but I couldn’t do anything to _help_ either.”

“You don’t have to. You helped all of us in so many other ways, stop discounting everything that you did for the RFA before we left. You don’t need to be a master spy for us to love you.”

“But I want to protect you!” the cell echoed with the force of her cry, and he didn’t have the words to help her. He couldn’t break through the poison that Rika had put in her veins. All she could see were his injuries and his fever, and she blamed herself for all of it. It killed him. It tore him apart to think that his inability to duck had caused her so much pain.

Vanderwood startled them both as she hunkered down, leaning against her knees and placing her hand on top of Nicky’s head. “Hey, hush now. Listen, everyone has their own merit. There will always be situations where things are happening that you can’t control. Sometimes you won’t have everything that it takes to make it right. But do you know what you do have?” Nicky shook her head, hiccupping around another short sob. “Love. And sometimes, when everything else fails, that’s exactly what you need.” Nicky took a deep breath, and some semblance of calm returned to her. He shoulders stopped shaking, the tears became sparse, and she managed to nod her head in acquiescence.

“Wise words.” V looked at Vanderwood, appraising her as he settled back onto the floor against the wall.

Vanderwood sighed, standing and walking back to her original position, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the bars of the cell. “I know. They aren’t mine.” _Klein._ She didn't have to say his name for Saeyoung to know whose words they were.

Nicky fell silent as she laid against his shoulder, and while she was calm, he knew that the damage had not been erased. He wished that he knew what to say to make her believe him, what to do to make her love herself as much as he loved her. He was useless with words, and he had a feeling that no matter what he said she would still feel the same until they got out of this alive. It wasn’t fair, but he wasn’t good at this sort of thing. Not like Rika.

Rika always did know how to convince someone that she was right. He had always thought it was an admirable quality, but he wasn’t so sure of that anymore.


	63. I Love You. Be Strong.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things escalate.

She waited, letting the last vestiges of sunlight fade from the tips of the mountaintops. The smattering of snow on the highest peaks dimmed from orange, to pink, to the lavender of creeping dusk. When the shadows had spread across the building and the whispers of night rustled through the trees, that was when Goldi knew they were ready. It was half past nine, the moon not even over the horizon, which meant the dark was the deepest that they could hope for.

She lifted the microphone pinned to her collar, sliding the button on the side until it clocked on. “Move.”

She saw the barest flicker of shadows as her people crept from the cover of the tree line. All around the building their slow invasion began, and she licked her lips as she anticipated what success would feel like. She would take back what was hers, and take anything else of value in this creepy place, then she would take her people back to revel in their victories. She felt a certain sense of pride as she watched them move in on the target. They were dressed in black, crouched as low as they could, and it would have been nigh impossible to detect them unless someone had already known they were there. Orchestrated in a symphony of silent perfection, each piece playing its part with admirable devotion. She had trained them well.

Until someone flipped the switch on floodlights dangling from the rim of the rooftops, and cast them all in light that put the sun to shame. She heard someone scream, and made a mental note to find out which agent it was and have them beaten for the stupidity. She grabbed the binoculars around her neck, holding them up to her face, heedless of her makeup this time as she glared through the lenses at the door. The front entrance was thrown open, and a mass of people wearing heavy cloaks started pouring out, like muddy water rushing from the tip of a rusty hose. They were armed to the teeth, some of them even wielding fucking _swords,_ for fuck’s sake, and they seemed completely unsurprised to find a slew of agents scattered across their lawn.

Gunfire broke out along the west end of the building, and she realized they were coming out of the other doors as well, a force defending their home. She had thought the fucking place had been quiet all day because it was empty, not because they had been napping and waiting for her eager ass to make the first move. She saw a handful of the robed figures fall to the ground as her agents started defending themselves, and she swore savagely.

“Fucking imbeciles.” She picked up the microphone again, yanking it off her lapel so she could scream into it. “Engage but do _not_ eliminate. I repeat, _do not eliminate._ _”_ She couldn’t afford to cover up a trail of this many bodies right now. Too costly and too time consuming. If the fuckers wanted to hide out in the mountains then she could leave them here wounded, and they could come up with a story that would keep the cops off both their tails. She smiled to herself, knowing full well none of it would ever get back to her. The joy of attacking somebody with secrets was that they could never accuse the attacker without incriminating themselves in the process. Nobody sold themselves out, in the end. Not in this business.

She put her hands on her hips, watching the battle unfold and listening to the uproar as it grew in volume. What a shit show. Still, she would bide her time and let it play out. She would still have her chance to get in there and take what was hers.

Nobody stole from Goldilocks.

***

Once again, the door at the end of the hall opened, and this time the footsteps were numerous as a group of cultists thundered down the hall, Rika leading them with long, graceful strides. The procession stopped in front of the cell, and the golden woman that fancied herself a priestess looked at them through the bars with an expression that made Nicky’s skin crawl.

She hated her, and she felt guilty about it. She knew that she was sick, and she knew that what she was doing was all because of her illness, but she couldn’t bring herself to forgive her yet for what she had done to the RFA. She had destroyed Saeyoung’s life, she had abandoned Saeran. She had taken the feelings that the others held for her and twisted them to suit her own dark purposes. She had planned to betray them while they had celebrated her kindness. She hated every part of that. She hated that someone could do that to them.

They unlocked the cell and the cultists filed in, grabbing the arms of the captives and yanking them to their feet. Saeyoung groaned in pain as his shoulder was wrenched to the side, and moments later her wrist was banged against the wall as they dragged her from the cell. She yelped as the swollen misery throbbed along her arm, more tears springing to the edges of her eyes as her vision swam with star bursts of pain. The hands that held her were not gentle, and she felt more bruises springing to life anywhere that their fingers dug into her skin. Rika made sure to meet her eyes, burning with frigid hate, before she turned and started walking back towards the front of the hall.

“Hey, Blondie, where are you taking us?” Vanderwood aimed the direction over the heads of the people holding V.

Rika didn’t turn as she spoke, but Nicky could still tell she was smiling. “It’s only a matter of time now. The party will begin soon.”

“What party? What are you talking about?” Vanderwood was silenced as a cultist slammed an elbow into her rib, and she stumbled as she was dragged forward.

Nicky saw Saeran waiting by the door, and she searched his face for any sign that he was okay. The look he turned towards her was full of so much vitriol that her feet froze in place, and she was thrown to the floor when her captors shoved her forward. She gasped as her hand shot out to break her fall, then screamed when her wrist absorbed the impact. She was yanking upward again before she could stop reeling from it, and her hazy vision returned to the smaller twin. His pupils were dilated, and he had a grim smile spread loosely across his lips. He was looking at her like he wanted to rip her to pieces and feed her to rabid dogs. It was hatred. He was looking at her with hatred, and she couldn’t think what she could have done to make him change his attitude towards her. She remembered his eyes in the cabin, full of fear and awe, confusion and reluctance. The hesitant acceptance of one another that had just started to feel like friendship, small and delicate like the wings of a newborn butterfly in the sweet summer breeze. All of that was gone, replaced with simmering rage that could not be quelled by the quiet words that had become their custom.

“Saeran?” she wanted to stop and speak to him, to understand what had happened to him. He sneered, his eyes narrowing, and she knew then that it could not have been anything she had done. The slackness to his shoulders, the hollow shadows in the pits of his eyes. He looked like his insides had been ripped out and scrambled, rearranged to someone else’s liking, and she knew there was only one person among them capable of such an awful act against the frail boy who deserved so much better. She turned to Rika, struggling against the grips of the people holding her back. “What did you do to him? _What did you do to him?_ _”_

“I gave him the same thing I will give to everyone. Peace.” Rika turned to smile at her, gleeful in her torture, a preening spider lording over the flies she had struggling in her web of lies.

Nicky sobbed as they were dragged past, meeting Saeran’s gaze and trying to reach out to him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” She caught a glimmer of doubt before she was dragged around the corner and he was out of sight. She turned her head forward, and caught Saeyoung’s glazed eyes as she did. He didn’t need to speak for her to receive the message loud and clear, because they no longer needed words to share that between them. She sent the same message back, knowing that he would need it just as much, knowing that seeing his brother like that would hurt him even more than it had her. She wished that she could paint the message on his skin with her lips, but all she had was the light in her eyes to tell him.

_I love you. Be strong._

***

The heard the din before they ever saw the chaos, and Zen eased his foot of the gas to slow the car. There were gunshots, and screaming, and he looked across the car to Jumin in the passenger’s seat, both knowing exactly what the other was thinking. _Shit._

The car passed over the crest of a hill, and now they could see the horrible scene laid out before them, a nightmare that he never thought he would experience in real life. Floodlights cast a blinding glare across the gravel driveway and grassy lawn, and the entire area had been littered with bodies. Some of them were dressed in black tactical gear, others wearing long robes with golden threading. Most of the people looked wounded, trying to crawl for cover as bullets whizzed over their heads. A handful weren’t moving, and Zen felt bile rise in the back of his throat as he watched them remain stilled.

“Oh my god.” Yoosung’s voice shook as he looked through the windshield from his place in the backseat. Zen glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw that Jaehee had her fingers pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide and terrified

“Kill the lights, get us as close as possible, and then we run.” Jumin’s voice was even, but his hands were shaking as he rested them against the side of the car.

“Are you insane?” Jaehee turned to him, astounded. “We’ll be killed.”

Jumin and Zen glanced at each other again, and he gave the barest of nods to indicate his understanding. Yoosung saved either of them from having to explain, however, as he placed his hand on Jaehee’s shoulder. “We have to. Nicky and Saeyoung are in there somewhere, and we don’t know what could happen if we aren’t on time.”

Jaehee looked at her feet, clasping her hands together, and Zen hated to see her so terrified. “Maybe you should wait in the car?”

Her head snapped back up, and she glared at him. “Why? So I can stay safe while you rush in and get yourself killed?”

“I’m the knight in shining armor, it’s what I’m supposed to do.” He flashed her a smile, but then recoiled when that only seemed to make her angrier.

“And that makes me the damsel then, does it?” she adjusted her glasses, smirking as she squared her shoulders. “I’m going to tell Nicky to get you that fedora after all.”

Yoosung giggled, although it was too hysterical to be true laughter. “Zen, you really have a problem with sexism.”

“So outdated.” Jumin smirked as Zen turned around to glare at him, his eye twitching. “I’m sure Nicolette is preparing a lecture for you as we speak.”

“Let’s go get her, then.” Jaehee shifted forward and pressed her fingers into his shoulder, smiling at him in a way that drained his irritation away. There was no chance for chivalry here. They were in this together, no matter the danger. Saeyoung and Nicky had been doing everything for them, and now it was their turn to return the favor.

He flicked off the headlights and started easing the car forward. “RFA to the rescue.”

The car eased down the hill along the driveway, and they got as close to the grass as they could before they had to stop or risk running over bodies that littered the ground. Gunfire peppered the air, and it was so much louder than he had thought it would be in reality. The movies never mentioned just how horribly deafening gunfights would be. They ducked as one when a bullet slammed into the side of the car, shattering the tail light.

Jumin made eye contact with each of them, his expression grim. “Keep low, get to the door. We’ll regroup inside.”

They nodded, and then they all took a second to breathe. Was this happening? Were they really rushing into a field of bullets and hell so that they could rescue their friends? It was insanity. His heart hammered against his chest, and he wished that he understood how the hell they had gotten to this point.

Jumin opened his door first, and Zen immediately followed. There was no turning back now, and he would be damned if he was going to let Jumin Han rush in first and be the hero. He didn’t even bother to close his after him as he hit the ground running, racing in a crouch towards the open entrance of the weird building looming ahead of them. He heard the other car doors pop open just behind his, and he knew everybody was out and moving forward.

They became targets immediately, and bullets smashed into the ground around him, sending dirt and mud sailing into the air. He heard Yoosung yelp in surprise, but saw him running out of the corner of his eye so he didn’t stop to waste precious seconds checking on him. He closed the distance step by step, each pump of his legs another prayer that they would make it, that they could push through the madness and find the peace on the other side. It felt like the world was coming to an end around them, but still they ran, still they persisted, because fuck the world and its ideas, they were not letting it tear their family apart.

Her scream ripped through him like a molten knife, and he stopped and turned towards the sound, his heart already in his throat. Jaehee was five feet behind him, rolling on the ground with her face contorted in pain, her fingers on her leg as bright drops of red seeped between them. He stared at her, stunned, frozen in horror with no comprehension of what he could do. She had been shot. Jaehee had just been shot. It was the worst sentence that had ever formed in his head, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around its awful meaning.

Jumin’s hand snagged around his collar and dragged him forward as he rushed them to Jaehee’s side. “Don’t stand there, idiot, help her!”

They reached her as she writhed in agony, holding her leg and crying. The bullet had hit her in the middle of the thigh, and her black pants were growing darker as blood leaked out of the wound. Another bullet zoomed over their heads, close enough that he felt the air heat around the edge of his ear, and he didn’t waste any more time staring at her like a useless lack wit. He wrapped his arms underneath her and lifted her off the ground, cradling her against his chest. Jumin stood next to him, his eyes black with fear, and Zen nodded towards the door. “I have her, go!”

They took off running together, and they didn’t bother ducking this time, opting for speed over anything else. Jaehee moaned in pain with each step, and he tried to adjust her to avoid jostling the leg, but it was no use. He would have to hurt her if he was going to save her life.

When they reached the threshold they rushed in, and Yoosung immediately slammed it shut behind them. “Everybody okay? Oh, my god, Jaehee, are you alright?” his words were high pitched and uttered around heaving breaths, the poor kid trembling like a freezing puppy.

Jumin leaned forward and clapped his hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine, Yoosung, be quiet.”

Zen leaned against the wall, keeping his grip on Jaehee as she clung to his neck. He looked into her eyes, beneath her now cracked and battered glasses, and they were so clouded with pain and panic that he felt like his heart was ripping in two.

“You came back.” A tear worked its way down her cheek, and her words broke him all over again.

“Of course I came back.” He kissed her, because there wasn’t anything else in the world that he could do to respond to such foolishness, his words completely inadequate to cover just how much he would always run back for her. When he pulled back there were stars in her eyes, and some of the color had returned to her cheeks. Jumin hovered next to them, and when he saw their moment was over he stepped forward.

“Here, hold her up so I can look at the leg.”

“Tch. What are you going to do, trust fund? You’ve never even fired a gun.” He rolled his eyes, but he did comply with the request, adjusting her so that Jumin could pull apart the fabric and investigate the wound.

“Actually, we’ve had training on how to treat bullet wounds so that the injured can survive until an ambulance can arrive.” Jaehee smirked at him, and the look on Jumin’s face was so smug he almost spun around and smacked him upside the head with Jaehee’s foot.

“Of course you did.” He was bitter, but he laughed anyways. “Why the hell would they train you on that?”

Jumin ripped the fabric further, holding it open to reveal the expanse of her thigh, a lovely work of art with a hole punched through it. “Our corporation is worth a great deal of money. It is not unfeasible to think that we could one day be attacked by those armed and prepared to do us harm.”

Jaehee winced as Jumin’s fingers ventured to close to the wound, and Zen pulled her away from his touch. “Watch it, buddy.”

Jumin glared, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I am only trying to help.”

“Well, help gentler.”

“It’s a wound, it’s going to hurt no matter how gentle my approach.” Jumin put his hand on his hip, his exasperation settling into his posture like an old friend in a comfortable chair.

Zen lifted his chin, glowering. “I guess your training never taught you how not to be an ass.”

His eyes narrowed. “An ass who’s trying to save your girlfriend’s life.”

“Don’t talk about her like you don’t know her, dude. She’s Jaehee, not ‘my girlfriend’.”

“Oh good, you’ve found feminist values.” He twirled a finger in the air in mock celebration. “Shut up and let me help her.”

The strangled cry at the other end of the room ended their bickering with a grim finality, and they all turned to see Yoosung crushed in the arms of a figure wearing long robes, a jagged knife aimed at his throat. His fingers were curled around the arm that held him, but it didn’t look like they were doing any good. He swallowed, tears in his eyes, and as the muscles in his throat flexed they came closer to the point of the blade.

“The Savior is waiting for you. Please, follow me.” He turned and started marching across the room, Yoosung still tight in his grip, the threat of death looming next to his jugular.

They couldn’t do anything but follow, and so Zen hefted Jaehee closer to his chest and walked forward, Jumin half a step behind them. Looks like they had arrived on time for the party after all, although he wasn’t sure if that made their situation better or worse.

_Rika, what the hell are you planning? And what the hell have you become?_  


	64. Nicky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which...in which anything that I say would cheapen it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to add: If you want the soundtrack, I wrote the entire thing with this song on repeat. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/track/4bA0D8W0RujUz8GMyv4rXn

They had started to hear the chaotic fighting as soon as they had reached the top floor, but no one around them reacted to the din of gunshots and screams of the wounded. Fear gripped him deeper as he wondered if it was anyone they knew out there fighting, and from the sounds of it he hoped that it wasn’t. No one was faring well in whatever war was waged outside the doors, and with that many shrieks of pain he knew that he didn’t want anyone in the RFA anywhere near it, even if it was Jumin arriving with the cavalry.

They were led into the room that could only be called a throne room, and the cultists shoved each of them to the ground, forcing them to their knees. His shoulder was beyond the realm of merely being wounded, so far beyond anything that he had ever endured before that he wasn’t sure much of him was left outside of the aching agony ripping through him. Each beat of his heart became harder the longer that he was forced to hold his head up, but so too did his determination grow, setting into his bones and becoming the other half of him. He was fury and perseverance, and he was dedicated to seeing this through. The doors to the room were closed, and it shut out the sounds coming from outside, shrouding them in silence.

Nicky was next to him, too far for him to reach. Close enough that he could smell the lingering scent of her shampoo, but the gap between them too long for him to touch her, to feel her skin and know that she was still warm, still whole. She looked a hundred different kinds of broken, and he watched the myriad types of pain dance across her face. It fed his hatred for Rika, severing the ties that he had to her and replacing them with disgust, with a driving need for vengeance. Once upon a time a sweet girl with blonde hair had been his angel, but something had happened to curse her, to strike her down, and now she stood before them as mutilated as a demon, grotesque and putrid.

Rika seated herself on her gilded chair, raised above them so that her eyes could roam across the tops of their heads. The lights in the ceiling cast cascading rivers of gold and silver down on her, reflecting off the curves of her hair, illuminating the delicate arch of her face. She looked like a painting, and he wanted to rip it from the wall. Lies. It was all lies. It was all a facade that she built for herself to hide the hideous person that she had become. Or to hide the person she had always been.

One of the cultists brought her a goblet of wine, and she cradled it in her fingers, crossing her legs beneath the rustle of her robes. “Sin has betrayed us all.” Her voice carried through the dead air in the room, loud and clear as though she were delivering a sermon. Perhaps that was what she thought it to be. A prayer to a captive audience, their unwilling ears filled with her poison. “It was the sins of others that damned you, and the world, in its infinite uncaring and rampant injustice, did not weep for you. The world gave you further suffering, putting you through trials you hadn’t the faith to understand, trials that you could not pass because you had been thrown so far from the light.” She sipped her wine, the deep red leaving stains across her pale lips. “When the world was deaf, I heard your cries. I have come to grant you peace, all consuming and everlasting.”

“What. The fuck. Are you talking about?” Vanderwood was looking at Rika like she was insane, and he reminded himself that he had the best damn partner in the entire world.

As though they had been told to enter on cue, a cultist walked through a set of plush curtains in the back of the room, carrying a tray with countless green bottles arranged in neat rows on top of it. Saeyoung noticed that his brother watched the tray go by, the dazed, placid expression on his face changing to one of hunger and need.

“Drugs. She uses drugs to keep her followers complacent. To make them more susceptible to her ideas.” V spoke with a hitch in his voice, and Saeyoung could see the layers of regret etched on his face.

Rika smiled down at him. “Paradise. I speak of paradise, bottled for consumption to be distributed to the masses. A dose combined with the order and control of my holy ideals will save the world from the desperate pain of sin.”

He stared at his brother, whose eyes were still locked on the vials. Drugs? She had been keeping him on drugs? So much more made sense now. His unruliness, his streak of awful hate that could never be calmed, the way he had reacted to the chloroform in a heartbeat and been kept asleep for hours. She had drugged him and brainwashed him for years, and all the while Saeyoung had taken a handful of stupid pictures and accepted Rika for her word. She had lied to his face while she had been torturing his brother. He felt like he was going to be sick, his thoughts rolling around in his head like bowling balls, crashing against his throbbing skull. Everything hurt. His emotions, his body, his heart, all of it ached in different ways, the world opening before him to reveal itself as hideous and agonizing when he had spent so much time hoping for light.

“Saeran.” Nicky’s voice echoed in the room, clear and bright, and it saved him. Her words pulled him back from the brink. He was drowning, and now he remembered that he could swim, and the air in his lungs didn’t feel so shallow. “Saeran, look at me.” He did, his eyes dimming in and out of focus as he tried to level his gaze. How many drugs had he been given? “What did she tell you? What did she tell you about us?”

It was the wrong question, because it made him recoil, snapping back into rage and hate in the span of a single, stuttered heartbeat. He turned away from Nicky, channeling his rage towards Saeyoung, and it was like a physical blow knocking against him. Her lies had done this. Her lies had kept him down in the dark until he had fed off hatred so long he didn’t know anything else. Rika had destroyed him so much more thoroughly than their mother ever could have.

“Savior, what will you do with the unworthy?” the grin that spread across his brother’s lips was like a mirror to Rika’s, all the vile detest sticking to it like flies in amber.

Rika set her glass of wine on the arm of her chair and rose, stepping off her shining stage like a goddess descending to the mewling mortals to demand worship. She walked forward until she was standing right in front of him, her eyes glittering with greed and selfishness. She took his face in her hands and tilted it so that he had to look up at her.

“Luciel. Saeyoung. You have done so well to walk the path I set you on. You have earned my love with your talents, and you will be welcomed into paradise.”

He jerked his head out of her hands, resisting the urge to spit on her. Her smile broadened, and behind her Saeran made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, a whine like a dog kicked for eating dinner.

“But…but you promised. You promised he would be punished.”

She turned to him, her face as still as stone. “He has been redeemed.” She resented his outburst, just as she resented his presence. She resented who Saeran was, and everything about him. Saeyoung realized that she had destroyed his brother in an effort to build him up to become _him,_ and now that she compared them side by side she was uninterested in the boy she had tried to make a stand-in. Her depravity knew no bounds, and with every move of her lips she sought to push the boundaries further.

“No. No, you said that you would make him pay.” Saeran shook his head, his eyes growing wide as he drained of all remaining color.

“Saeran, tell me what’s true?” she snapped the words at him and he flinched, closing his eyes and curling in on himself.

“That…that…you love me. That you saved me.” He took a bold step forward, threading his fingers together and holding them beneath his chin. “You promised to keep me safe from him. You promised that you wouldn’t let him hurt me.”

Rika opened her mouth to speak, but they were interrupted by the wide double doors to the room swinging open, and Nicky’s gasp of horror was enough to tell him that he didn’t want to see what had just walked through. He turned, slowly, knowing that he would hate it, knowing that it would bring new levels of despair to this lightless hell they were sinking in.

He was right.

“Ah, good. Our guests have arrived.”

Yoosung was clutched in the arms of a cultist, a knife pointed at his throat, and behind them were the rest of the RFA, walking as though they carried the weight of the world tied to their ankles. Jaehee was clutched in Zen’s arms, blood dripping from the hem of her pants. They looked as grim as corpses, and he knew that he would probably look the same to them, if not worse.

“No.” Nicky clapped her hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes. “Why are they here? Why aren’t they safe?”

The cultist holding Yoosung shoved him so that he stumbled onto the floor, his head bouncing against the cold marble with an awful thud that made Saeyoung’s stomach roll. Zen’s face contorted in anger, but he was blocked from coming to his aid as cultists surrounded them. The one that had brought them left the room and slammed the door, and they were left in the astounding silence of their shock and horror.

“Rika…” the look on Jumin’s face was worse to see than Jaehee’s wound or Yoosung’s treatment. He looked at her as though she were made of second chances, as though the world had been born anew in the spun gold hair that curled around her cheeks. He walked towards her, the cultists allowing him through as Rika opened her arms, as though to embrace him.

“Jumin, don’t!” Nicky fell forward as the cultist closest to her smacked the back of her head, retribution for her outburst, hitting her with enough force to send her tears arcing through the air to spatter across the ground. Jumin looked at her and he halted his approach, his hands curling into fists. His chest heaved as his breath raced through his lungs, his mouth hanging open.

“Nicolette…”

“I see.” Rika bowed her head, lowering her arms and letting them sink into the sleeves of her robes. She turned to Nicky, her gaze full of spite. “You have even managed to sway Jumin. What a clever little dove, to be a girl so plain yet charm so many.”

“Rika.” Yoosung sat up from his place on the floor, his face already bruising from the impact. “What are you saying? Why are you doing this?”

Her smile was wretched, a wave of falsehood flooding from her face. “No matter. I am pleased you have not betrayed me so far that you would fail to attend my party. I’m so glad you could make it. My apologies, Jaehee, it seems our guests outside have caused you harm. Please, don’t be afraid. Soon you won’t have to feel the pain anymore.”

“So it was true.” Jumin’s hands shook as he clenched them into fists. “You really were behind all of this.”

“Anger does not suit you, Jumin Han.” She stepped forward quicker than any of them could have expected, backhanding Jumin across the face. The slap echoed in the room, only to be erased by the cry of rage from Nicky and the scuffs of her captors trying to hold her in place.

“Leave him alone! Leave them all alone! Haven’t you done enough?”

“I grow weary of her prattling.” She walked to the tray of medicine, plucking a bottle before she turned to walk back towards Nicky. “Let me pour a bit of silence between your lips.”

“No!” he shouted the refusal, but was stunned into wordless surprise when he realized Saeran had screamed one even louder at the same time. His brother wasn’t looking at him, or Nicky, but at Rika, who spun around slowly to glare at him.

“No? Is this not what you wanted? Is this not what you begged me for with those big, blue eyes?”

“You promised.” His breath was coming in ragged gasps and his eyes darted around the room without seeing anything. “You were going to punish them. You were going to make Saeyoung suffer. He was supposed to suffer. You promised.”

Rika sighed, then flicked her wrist towards another group of her people. “Take him away, he’s broken and in need of repairs. I will do what I can with him after the celebration.”

Cultists swarmed around Saeran, grabbing him and beginning to carry him away. He wailed, a horrible, miserable sound that broke Saeyoung’s heart, ripping it to shreds and leaving nothing left for him to hold on to. He stood, tearing out of the hands of his captors and running across the room, shouldering another surprised cultist out of the way and off his brother. He put himself between Saeran and the rest of them, holding out his good arm to try and protect him. He had to protect him. He had to do what he could to protect him from Rika.

He had failed to see where the real danger was until now, but he would never stop protecting his brother from it. Not ever again.

One of the cultists rushed forward, and he slammed his knee into their gut. He grabbed them as they fell, praying to God that he would find an ounce of luck, and stuffed his hand inside the folds of their robe. He wanted to weep with joy as he found a pocket, his fingers wrapping around the cold, metal handle of a gun. He pulled it free, tossing the cultist to the side, and when he held it up and swung it through the air the rest of them backed away.

The room was wavering before him, and he knew that had been his last push. He was running on empty. There wasn’t anything left in his reserves. He had gotten this far, and he would go no further. He had done his very best, but now he would have to trust that those with the strength to carry on would, and then maybe it wouldn’t have all been for nothing.

He turned and put the gun in Saeran’s hands, holding them tightly as he struggled to remain upright. “Go. Take Nicky and run. Get out of here.”

One of the cultists slammed a fist into the side of his head, and he tumbled to the ground, smacking against the unyielding marble with enough force to jar the breath from his lungs. Nicky screamed, and he watched as she tried to run to him, one arm thrust forward as a knee was jammed into her stomach. He tried to get up, to crawl to her side, but he couldn’t get half of his body to move, and the pain rolling through him was too much to overcome.

_Saeran, save her._

_***_

There was a gun in his hand. The metal felt warm, like someone else had been holding it. Had it been him? He couldn’t remember. He stared at it, lifting it so that the black hole on the end was level with his eyes. He felt like he could see the night sky through it, but the stars were gone. Where had all the stars gone? Could he remember? He didn’t think so. He didn’t think his memories were in order. Something was jumbled. He was broken. Someone had broken him. Who? He felt like there had been a promise. Someone hadn’t kept a promise. Maybe it was him.

Someone screamed, and he turned to face them. The girl with the red hair. What was her name? _Nicolette_. That was it. She had been kind to him. Laughing at him? Had that been what she did? Someone had told him that once, but she wasn’t laughing now. She was trying to get to the person on the ground. She looked so sad. So much pain. He didn’t like that. He remembered her smile, or he thought he did. That was better.

The man on the ground was his brother. He was supposed to suffer. Saeran had a gun. Bullets caused suffering.

He lifted the weapon, pointing it at the man on the floor. Nicolette screamed again, and he turned to face her, the gun trailing with him. No, if he put the bullet in his brother she would be sad. He needed to explain to her first. She needed to understand that he was a bad man. Or he thought he was. Had someone told him that? Yes, that and that she had laughed at him. She wasn’t laughing. He had never seen her laugh. She was always so sad. Did he make her sad? Was that what happened?

Maybe he could put the bullet in his own head. Would that make her happy? Everything would be quiet then. There was so much noise in the room. Someone else was yelling at him.

The Savior. She was so bright. She was saying something but he couldn’t hear the words. She looked angry. Maybe she would hurt him again. Had he done something wrong? He always did. She was so bright, and he could never live up to her expectations. She burned him for it. Like the medicine burned. It was for his own good. Was it? Pain made him stronger. Did it? Someone told him once that it did. Nicolette didn’t look stronger, and she was in pain. He didn’t like that.

He blinked at the Savior, and he couldn’t see anyone else anymore. He didn’t like that. He wanted to see the girl. The girl with the bright eyes. He liked the green in them better. They didn’t burn, like the medicine. They twinkled. Like the stars. He liked that. He liked the stars. He could look up and count them.

Not with the sun out. The sun was so bright, and when he looked at it his eyes burned. She burned him. She always burned him, even when he wanted shadows. He just needed the sun to set. He needed the light to go out so he could see the stars again. Golden and burning, scalding the earth and drying up all his tears. He was a drought, but maybe he wanted it to rain. The stars would know. The stars would tell him. They would sparkle as soon as the sun was gone.

He lifted the gun and aimed it at the sun, and then he pulled the trigger.

***

She watched his sanity tumble away from him, crumbs of bread dribbling into the pond. He sank, further away from her, none of her words reaching him. She watched him level the gun at himself, at his brother, at the girl that had destroyed everything. Then she watched him level the gun at her heart.

She had lost them all. She was alone. She knew it was her fault, but she couldn’t stop. There was a pain in her chest that never went away, and it didn’t matter how much love she had, it didn’t matter how many promises she stole from the people around her. The pain was always there, always waiting to rise to the surface and claim her. She had just wanted to make the pain go away.

She had driven V away with her darkness, and then she had kept pushing herself further. He had come back to her, and she had hated him for it, because it meant that she had been wrong. She hated him for it because she didn’t want him to see her like this. Like what she had become. Like what she was. Cruelty was all that was left to her. She had used up all her love and tears so long ago, and now all she had was the pain. She gave it away, communion to those that were faithful enough to get close. She gave it to V, and she had smiled as he took it. There were no limits to his love. She had tested it, over and over again, and still he returned. Just like the sun, returning from the edge of night. Still, she couldn’t find kindness inside of herself any longer. Only pain. There had only ever been pain.

Saeran pulled the trigger, and she was thankful. It could be over. Everything could be over. She was so glad that she could rest, and that she wouldn’t have to feel the pain any longer.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the end to come, but all that arrived were screams. She looked, and nothing made sense anymore. V was laying at her feet, red blooming from his chest, his eyes locked on her.

To the end. He had come for her to the very end.

She sank to her knees, holding her shaking hand to his face. “V…why?”

“I…love you…Rika.”

This was not the end of pain. This was the beginning. This was the dawn of true suffering, and she had brought it forth, crafting it from hands that toiled in deceit and hatred. She had built the road to hell, and she had blithely walked along it, each step carrying her to this. She had thought she understood the world, thought she had understood herself. She had thought she understood anguish.

Only now. Only now did she know the true meaning of losing all the love in her heart.

***

 The cultists stood, stunned and unmoving, and with that all of those previously held captive rushed forward, crowding around V where he lay on the floor. Nicky put her hands over the wound, but it was no use. There was so much blood, so much more than any one person could hold, and it slipped through her fingers and stained the floor. Rika was unmoving, staring at him as though she had been frozen in time. Saeyoung was beside her now, his hands on her shoulders, shaking with exhaustion and emotion. She didn’t know when he had arrived, but she was so glad that he was there.

“Jumin…” V was gasping for breath, a wheeze in his words like an empty flute, hollow and horrible. “Everyone…I’m so…sorry.” There were tears in their eyes despite everything that had happened, no one any more able to accept the loss through their anger than they could have through their love.

“Why?” Jumin held V’s hand, both trembling, in voice and flesh. “Why would you do that?”

“Forgive me…for loving her…so much. Forgive me…for…failing…all of…you.” She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palms, and she felt it stutter and slow. He turned to her, clouded eyes and fading vision, a candle burning low at the end of its wick. “Nicolette…take care…of them. I’m so…sorry…for…everything.”

“I forgive you.” She knew that it was true as soon as the words left her lips, knew that it was honest as she stood there holding the last of his life in his chest. “V, I forgive you. I understand. You don’t have to be sorry anymore, okay? You don’t have to carry the guilt alone anymore.” Tears rushed down her face, splashing against her tongue as she tried to talk around them. She wanted to say more but she couldn’t, as the air in her chest was too small to make sounds.

***

_I forgive you._

It was everything that he had ever wanted to hear. It was all he had ever wanted from any of them, and the one thing he could never ask for. He should have felt like he didn’t deserve to be forgiven, but she had asked him not to carry the guilt alone anymore. Sweet girl. He was glad that she had found her way to them. She would save them from the darkness that Rika had left in their hearts. She granted wishes, just like a shooting star. He had wished that someone would understand, and she did. He had wished that someone would forgive him, and she had. It was more than he could have ever asked for, and she had delivered. He hoped God smiled kindly on her for bestowing such gracious gifts.

He turned, gazing up at Rika as his vision started to dim further. She was still so beautiful. So bright. He still loved her with everything that he was. Through all the darkness, through all his failures, he had never been able to let go because he knew that she was still in there. She had been trapped by clouds, lost in a storm, and he had never found a way to pull her back out. But she was there. She was beautiful, made of laughter and sunbeams scattering through the edges of crystals. When she had been happy she had been able to make every wonderful thing in the world pale in comparison. She was his soul mate, and she always would be. He hoped that God would smile kindly on her, as well. That he would take away her pain, and allow her to be Rika once more.

As everything around him disappeared, he was glad that she was still there, still with him. He was so glad that the sun was shining in his final moments.

***

Saeyoung had walked to be with his brother as V breathed his final breath, his chest finally growing still. She stood, wiping the blood on her pants, although she felt like it would be stuck to her palms forever. The cultists were like statues, waiting for Rika to speak, and Rika gazed unseeing at the ceiling, an innocent smile tilting the edges of her lips. It was the first honest expression Nicky had seen on her face, but it only made her sad. This would have never been how she wanted things to resolve.

She would have gone to join the twins, but the doors at the end of the room burst open, and people in thick jackets and black masks flooded into the room. All of them had guns, held aloft and pointed at each person still trying to recover from the death of a man that had once been their mentor. A large woman with pale hair was at the lead, and as she entered she looked around at all of them with an expression of mild irritation.

“What a mess.” She curled her lip, shaking her head, then she turned to one of the people next to her. “Grab the twins and Vanderwood, eliminate the rest.”

Nicky looked at Saeyoung and Saeran, and then she looked at V’s motionless body still bleeding on the floor. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let anyone else get hurt. She had to do something. She couldn’t just be the useless girl anymore, screaming whenever trouble arose and letting others take the fall. She had to be good for something. She had to do what she could to save them. All she had was a heart full of love, but maybe Vanderwood was right, and maybe that was enough.

She ran forward, throwing herself in front of Saeran and Saeyoung, spreading her arms out as though she could physically shield them from any danger. She opened her mouth, to beg them to leave them alone, to use her words to make them stop and see reason before anyone else that she loved could be harmed.

Her voice never made it out of her throat as searing pain tore apart her middle. She felt like she heard the gunshot after she had been hit, but time felt muddled, so she wasn’t sure if that was the right order. She sank to her knees, her arms curving across her stomach, trying to block out the pain, trying to make the fire erupting inside of her grow cold. Someone was screaming, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t tell who. She tasted copper in the back of her mouth, and she coughed, feeling something thick trickle along her tongue. It hurt to cough, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to do it again. She couldn’t breathe. She realized that her lungs felt shriveled and empty, and she opened her mouth to gasp but nothing happened. It just hung there, empty and silent. Everything was dim.

She fell over, bouncing against the ground before warm hands were holding her. Saeyoung was with her. He took her hand, and she looked up at him. He was crying. She tried to reach out to him, to touch his tears and make them better, to comfort him so that he wouldn’t be so sad, but her arm wouldn’t work. It was too heavy, and she couldn’t lift it. She tried to speak, but there still wasn’t any air in her chest. The fire had burned it all away.

She was scared.

Then everything faded away, and Saeyoung was gone. Now she was scared and alone.

***

Where was the reset button? Was there some code he could make that would rewind time? Anything was better than this. Any reality, any world. There had to be a way to fix it.

“Nicky, Nicky please. Please no. Please, no.”

Would anything have changed? If he had never called her? If he had never replied to her texts?

“Please, I love you, don’t go. You can’t go.”

Could she have been happy if he had just stepped aside? If he had never let her know him in the first place? Would she have loved Yoosung, or Zen? Would she have found it in her heart to love Jumin? What a dangerous game he had played, to think it was safe to let her fall for him.

“No…please…”

Her blood was on his hands, and he wished that his heart could beat for hers. He loved her, more than anything, and if stopping this meant taking it all back then he would. He would walk backwards through all the steps, until he found the part that would let him twist fate in the other direction. He could find which questions to answer differently, which choices would have altered the path. He would remember every smile, every kiss, the way it felt when she said his name. He would remember all the precious seconds they had spent together, coiled in bliss, the sighs on her lips like the breath of the stars. They had made galaxies with the light of their love, and there was no universe where he would not always love her. She was his soul mate, bound through every tilt in the timeline, every possible variable still leading to that truth. He would have loved her if she had been drawn to Yoosung, he would have loved her if she had enchanted Zen. He would have loved her if Jumin had kissed her in his apartment and she had kissed him back. He loved her so much that he would have gladly given her up to keep this from happening. He would sacrifice every shred of happiness he had ever had, just to know that she would breathe, and smile, and laugh again.

_Keep loving me._

_There is no universe where I wouldn_ _’t love you._

Where was the reset button? How could he make it all go away?

“Nicky. Nicky, let’s just start over.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art is by the wonderful, beautiful, perfect starkind (http://celeste-draws.tumblr.com/) who has graciously waited to post this piece until this chapter. 
> 
> I LOVE HER. SHE IS THE BEST. And before you start yelling, she had no prior knowledge of what was happening in this chapter. 
> 
> PLEASE TELL HER THAT HER ART IS PERFECT. SHE IS PERFECT. 
> 
> <3


	65. All He Would Have Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vanderwood steps in.

She pressed the gun against her temple a second too late. If she had moved just a bit faster, if she had been just a bit smarter, she could have avoided hearing Saeyoung scream like his heart had just been ripped directly out of his chest. Had she sounded like that when her world had exploded? She couldn’t remember any more if she had even screamed. It had taken her one precious moment to realize what was happening when the doors opened, and she had spent another precious moment yanking a gun out of the hand of one of the cultists. That was all that it had taken for Nicky to throw herself in front of the boys and get a bullet in the gut for her efforts. _Stupid girl. Stupid, wonderful girl._ She was braver than she had any right to be, and it was cruel that fate had dragged her through the mud so savagely. She just wanted to love the people around her, and based on the consequences God must have found that a terrible crime.

Vanderwood could smell Goldi’s perfume, the heady scent crawling up her nose and making her want to vomit. She leaned in close to her ear, jamming the tip of her gun harder into the side of her head as smoke still rose from the barrel of the one in Goldi’s fingers. One pull of the trigger, and everything had fallen apart. There was too much death in this room already, and she couldn’t stand to think about there being another. Especially not that girl. Anyone but her.

“Drop the gun and order everybody out.” Goldi complied and dropped the pistol she had been gripping in her heartless fist, but she didn’t make a move to ask any of the other agents to step down. “Order them to stop or I swear to god I’ll pull the trigger.”

Saeyoung was cradling Nicky, and it didn’t look like she had kept her consciousness for very long. Her sweater had a deep red stain blooming in her center, and Saeyoung’s sobs felt like knives being jammed into her eyes. The smaller twin took one look at her prone form and folded in on himself, collapsing onto the floor in a solid feint. She couldn’t tell from where she stood behind Goldi’s girth if the girl was still breathing, if her pulse was still holding on. There was a lot of blood. She blinked, and every time her lids closed she could see a different death replaying in her mind. That one had only taken a few precious seconds, as well.

“Hold.” Goldi spat the word and the agents froze, halting their approach. The other members of the kids’ little family had all crowded around Nicky, and there weren’t any dry eyes among them. The one with black hair was trying to shove Saeyoung’s hands aside so he could take a look at her injuries, but Saeyoung was so panicked that he kept getting in the way. The cultists were all huddled together in the corner, standing behind the crazed priestess as she stared at the ceiling, blithely unaware of any of the trauma all around her. She had clearly lost whatever had been left of her twisted mind. Nicky looked so fucking pale it made Vanderwood’s fingers shake.

“If she dies, I will rip every nerve from your body and wrap it around a hot curling iron until your frigid heart bursts from the pain.” Vanderwood wanted very badly to pull the trigger. She wanted to take Goldi’s life, just in case the bitch had done to Saeyoung what she had done to her. It couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t happen to _him._ This was not what her and Klein had fought for all those bitter fucking months, treating him like their own personal moral objective. He was still just a fucking kid, and he didn’t deserve this.

“You’re making a mistake. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Goldi smirked, and it took all Vanderwood’s energy not to haul off and slap it off her face with the edge of her gun. “You know my reach. You know my resources. Get this gun off my head and back down, and you’ll get your job back. You’ll all get your jobs back.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d rather not.” She chuckled, unperturbed by the grief filling the room, unperturbed by the threat pressed against her head. “You’re throwing your life away. You’re worth more than one stupid act of pointless heroism. Klein wouldn’t have wanted you to just disregard everything you worked for.”

Vanderwood laughed outright, and it was bitter and jagged as it left her throat. “What do I care if I die? If I do what you say you’ll just take everything else from me, like you took him. Your shit intel got him killed. I’m not gonna let your greed take anything else.” She nudged her temple, making her head bob away before swaying back. “Order all the agents out unless you want to die early.”

Goldi’s eyes flicked to her agents, and Vanderwood ground the gun against the side of her head. She sighed, clenching her fat fingers in frustration. “Out.”

None of the men and women said a word as they backed out of the room. The air filled with the broken sounds of Saeyoung’s unraveling.

“You’ll never really be free.” Goldi’s voice was a low growl, whispered through clenched teeth so that only Vanderwood could hear it. “You couldn’t escape when Klein was pushing for it, and you won’t escape now. I’ll always come back for what’s mine.”

It would have been so easy to pull the trigger. So easy to sink a bullet into her brain and never have to hear another word from her disgusting, pink-smeared mouth. She could get revenge. She could settle the score, and then maybe Klein would have justice, after all this time.

She couldn’t do it. _God dammit, stupid sentimental kids._ She couldn’t murder her in cold blood in front of the group of weeping lambs. There was enough death in this room. And she knew that if she took out Goldi, another serpent would just rise up to take her place. Ending her life wouldn’t erase their problems. She would have to work much harder to get the agency off their tails when they got out of this, and driving the light out of Goldi’s eyes needed to be the last step, not the first.

“You go ahead and keep telling yourself that. But I’m not letting you anywhere near those boys or anyone close to them. Not ever again. So you can bitch and moan about it all you want, honey, but I’m done playing your games. I’ll take your whole fucking business down, and when you have _nothing_ left to your name I’ll let you look me in the eyes while I end your miserable, hateful, _insignificant_ life.” She took a shaking breath, her heart thundering in her chest. “ _That_ _’s_ what Klein would have wanted.”

There was a commotion outside the room, and she heard a great deal of shouting before the doors burst open again. Men in uniforms flooded in, some of the uniforms official and others just expensive. One man with a microphone tacked over his ear spotted the guy with the black hair and jogged over, while the rest of them leveled guns at every able body in the room.

The man with the microphone motioned to everyone crowded around Nicky. “Targets identified, everyone else should be arrested.”

“No, she’s with us, and so is she.” The guy with the black hair aimed a thumb at herself and Rika, and the guns pointed at them were dropped and re-aimed at the cultists or Goldi. Vanderwood shoved the woman forward and then stuffed her gun in the back of her pocket, letting the police surround Goldi and take the burden off her shoulders.

“We need a medic!” Saeyoung’s voice sounded thin and strained. Two officers jogged over, and the boy with the blonde hair was finally able to pull Saeyoung away so that they could get to work. He sank to his knees, watching as one of the men pressed a finger to the base of her jaw, the rest of them collectively praying for a pulse. Saeyoung was covered in blood, his own and his lover’s, red smeared across his face and glasses where he had tried to wipe his eyes. His gaze was locked on her, never wavering, never moving. She was all that he could see, and Vanderwood begged whatever powers controlled shit like this that he wouldn’t be watching her die. _Not like this. Not ever like this._  

Saeyoung lasted until the officer declared that her heart was still beating, and then he finally collapsed, the fever and his own injuries pulling him under. She rushed over, kneeling next to him and placing her hand on his forehead. His skin felt like acid against her fingers, and she knew he wasn’t in any better shape than Nicky.

“Hey, this idiot needs a medic too.” She waved one of the other officers over, and they set to work inspecting his injuries.

“She also has a gunshot wound.” The man with the silver hair lifted the girl in his arms, her face so soaked with tears that it had turned red and splotchy. More officers rushed to their aid, and Vanderwood exhaled as the world swarmed around her with very official people conducting very official business.

She heard sirens and choppers outside every time the doors swung open and closed, and she glanced nervously towards the smaller twin. Everyone was so wrapped up in the other two that he was left curled against the floor, forgotten. She sighed, making her tired legs move to carry herself over to him, kneeling to brush the hair out of his face. He was breathing, and he didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, although he would be when whatever drugs were in his system started to wear off. Not to mention the layers of psychological damage that would need to be peeled away to find out if there was even a person still living underneath them.

People ran in with stretchers, lifting the wounded and carrying them out of the room. A pair of paramedics approached her, and took the little twin into their care. She stayed by the stretcher, and when they emerged into the night air she followed it beneath the spinning lights of the emergency vehicles. She wanted to follow her partner, or the girl that his heart belonged to, but she knew that if she did that then there would be nobody to watching over Twitch. He was too young and too broken to deserve to be left alone, especially not when his whole shitty world would be gone by the time he awoke. It didn’t matter if it had been twisted and manipulated into something awful, it was still his world. Losing the world was never easy, no matter the reason.

She didn’t hold his hand, because that would have been fucking stupid, but she did stay by his side all the way to the hospital, and even then she threatened an orderly until they let her hang out at the edge of his bed. She wasn’t going to leave him. She wasn’t going to let him be alone.

_Look Klein, we have two of them now. I know you_ _’re watching. I know you’re here with me. Seven got so strong when we weren’t looking, I bet you’re so proud.  Don’t worry, I’ll keep tabs on the twitchy one. I’ll stick around until he gets strong, too. I won’t let them hurt our boys._

_I wish you were here to help me love them._

Her own tears came then, and she didn’t try to stop them from washing down her face. All she wanted was to curl up in a ball and remember what it had felt like to be held when she was sad. It wasn’t fair that she was doing this alone. It wasn’t fair that Klein had been taken from the world when he had been the best thing in it. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now. She was years too late to change her own fate. All she could do was put her will to good use in helping theirs. It’s what he would have wanted. To make them strong, to make them happy. To keep this shit from happening to them all over again. Saeyoung and his brother and that bright-eyed girl, making them smile would have been all he would have wanted.

_Klein, I miss you, but I_ _’ll do my best._


	66. I Thought I'd Lost You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone is in the hospital.

It felt like someone had drilled a hole through her middle. That was the first thing that came to her mind when she started drifting towards consciousness. She tried to sink back down, to slip away from the pain, her mind scrabbling away from coherent thoughts like a skittish cat from footsteps. It was easier to float in the darkness, where nothing could hurt her. It was lonely there, though, and she had this nagging feeling in the back of her head that there was something she needed to wake up for. Something was being taken from her, but her mind didn’t want her to remember. She wanted nothingness. She wanted the big, flawless empty that enveloped her. It was lonely, but it was simple, and she felt like it had been a long time since she had simplicity.

It was gradual, but the feeling came back to her body inch by inch. She wished that it wouldn’t, because everything immediately hurt. Her wrist felt like someone had shoved nails in it, and every time she took a breath she felt pain across her stomach. Initially, these were all nothing more than sensations, things that bothered her while she tried to go back to sleep. She didn’t question where they had come from, nor who she was, or where she was. All she wanted was a little more sleep, another slice of lonely oblivion to hold on to. There was something that she didn’t want to come back to, some fear that repelled her from waking. There was also something that pulled her back out, a whispered promise that she couldn’t name or explain.

She opened her eyes when a particularly sharp stab of pain worked its way through her abdomen, the light making her squint as she shied away from it. The room was dim, but all the walls were white, which felt horribly empty and blinding. She groaned, trying to adjust herself, but the ache in her middle didn’t give her much leeway. She lifted her arm, to throw her hand over her gaze to ease the glare, blinking as she let her vision adjust. There were wires coming out of her, and she felt them cling to her arm and shift with her movement. She blinked at them, wondering what had happened to her. She realized that the wrist that hurt felt heavier than it should, and she lifted it to see a cast wrapped around it, the stiff dressing scratching against her skin.

Her memories came back in a flash, and she recalled the sound of the gun as it had gone off, the bullet ripping through her as she had tried to protect the ones she loved. She gasped and sat up, which she regretted before she even completed the action as her stomach screamed at her in protest, almost as bad as it had felt when the bullet had entered. A whimper of pain left her throat, and she grabbed onto the arm rest next to her bed, gripping it for dear life until the fury of her injury subsided. She let her eyes dart around the room, the realization that she was in a hospital filling her with dread. If she was _here_ , then where was everyone else?

Visions of Saeyoung and Saeran being carted off by the agency filled her head, and she tried to move her legs to get off the edge of the bed. Another cry of pain trickled out of her lips, followed by a sob of frustration. _Saeyoung, please._

She was surprised when someone else in the room let out a groan of their own, and she turned her head towards the curtain next to her bed. She couldn’t walk, but she would be willing to bet that if she put all her strength into it she could lean over and pull that cloth out of the way. It took her several swipes, and she had sweat beading on her brow from the pain and exertion, but finally she got a good grip on the fabric and swept it to the side.

_Saeyoung._ There he was, resting comfortably in a bed just a few feet from hers, propped up on so many pillows that he looked like he was floating on clouds. His shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, tying his arm against his chest so that it wouldn’t move, a temporary sling. Someone had given him a shirt, which fit strangely around all the gauze. His brow furrowed and he groaned again, his eyes slowly peeling open. He blinked, staring at the room, confused and bleary. His eyes widened suddenly, and he sat up, wincing, although much less so than she had. He glanced towards her, and when their gaze met tears filled his eyes. 

“You’re here.” His voice rasped from his throat, and she didn’t know it if was from emotion or exhaustion, but she didn’t think she cared. He was alive. They were both alive. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She clapped her hand over her mouth as her breath turned into a sob, which wracked her with pain that she tried to ignore. “Saeyoung. Are you okay?” she spoke through her fingers as rivers of fear and sorrow trickled from her eyes.

“Are _you_ okay?”

She reached her hand out, stretching it as far as it would go, and she didn’t need to ask him before he copied the movement, straining against the railing on the bed. They closed the gap between them, clasping their fingers together. He was real. He was solid and warm, shaking from emotion but otherwise fine. No more fever. No more untended injuries. He was smiling, and it was the best thing that she had ever seen.

“I thought they were going to take you away.” She sniffed, her shoulders shaking and making her stomach burn. “I thought…I thought…”

He let go of her hand and threw the covers off his legs, getting out of the bed in one fluid movement. He had to turn and rip needles and tubes out of his arm, but he did it so quickly she didn’t have any time to protest. He walked the short distance between their beds, took her chin in his hand, and kissed her.

She saw stars behind her eyes as she was filled with love. He sat on the edge of the bed and she shifted over for him, slowly, ignoring the pangs from her injuries because she was lost in the sweet truth of the moment. She was still crying, and he was still crying, but they were no longer tears of fear. They were no longer anger, or despair. They weren’t pain, or desperation. They were love. Boundless love, reaching out from their hearts to sail across the star-studded early dawn, blessing the horizon with a blush of light. Their love turned the world, spinning it inside of them until the shadows ran clear and the dust blew away. What was left was a mirror, unblemished and lit by the moon, and in the silvery depths it showed the ultimate truth of the world. No matter what else crowded the view, no matter what else fogged the edges or sent cracks webbing down the middle, in the center one shining absolute remained. Love. It was love, and it had been enough.

He curled around her, holding her close with the arm that he could move, and she sighed against his lips. The breath made her chest move, which in turn shifted her stomach, and her bliss turned to sharp pain again as she winced once more. She heard a faint click, and he kissed her again, swallowing her yelp of surprise as a strange burn spread into her arm from the point where the IV was connected. For a moment that was all there was, but then a soothing numbness spread from that spot, out across her arms and legs, coiling in her stomach and easing the tightness that she hadn’t realized had been wearing her thin. This time when she sighed it was in relief, and if it caused her pain she could no longer feel it. She let her eyes flutter open, and Saeyoung was smirking at her. He moved his arm so that she could see his hand, and she saw a small, white wand with a button on the end. Painkiller.

“Sorry, love, you looked like you needed it.”

She kissed him, though she was finding it difficult to move her lips. “Mmm, thank you.”

He returned the affection fervently, pulling her as close as he could around their injuries. She wanted to respond, to tell him she loved him a thousand different ways, but she was drifting back to sleep even as he released the kiss, nuzzling the side of her cheek with his nose.

“It’s illegal to make that sound right now, space princess.”

She giggled, but it felt slow and strange. “Okay.” She laid her head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat like thunder on the mountaintops. “What happened?”

“Vanderwood kicked ass.” He kissed the top of her head, and she felt like his smile was warm water, washing over her and lulling her to sleep.

“Mmm. And Saeran?”

“He passed out when you got hurt. I don’t know where he is yet. This is the first time I’ve been fully conscious since they told me you had a pulse.” He sighed, his fingers splayed across her shoulder. She was so warm and happy now. She was so glad she had woken up. “I thought I’d lost you.” He repeated the phrase with all the gravity that it entailed, his fears hovering in the back of his throat. She draped her arm across his chest and wrapped one of her legs around his own, entangling them as much as she was able, curling into him.

“You didn’t. I’m here. I love you, Saeyoung.”

She knew he was crying, but she didn’t have the strength to lift her head again. Besides, it was okay now. They were together, and they were safe.

“I love you too, Nicky.”

It was the last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep, and this time the darkness wasn’t lonely.

***

“ _Of course_ he ripped out his IV and changed beds.” Zen rolled his eyes, standing in the doorway with the rest of them and peering at the couple that was crammed into the tiny cot at the far end of the room. “Idiots.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Yoosung grinned at him, half his face hidden beneath the ice pack that he was holding there, covering the nasty bruise he had earned when he was thrown to the floor.

“You would.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame. “What if he turns in his sleep? He could pull out her stitches. The surgeon said she was stable, not better.”

“She looks happy.” Jumin’s voice was somber, but then again everything he had said since they had returned had been somber. Zen had a feeling he wasn’t coping with anything that had happened very well. Not that any of them were. Zen himself had thrown up twice from the sheer height of stress and grief that he had been pushed to, although he had made sure to pull himself together any time someone was watching. He felt like he needed to be the one who became the backbone of the group for the moment, like he needed to step into his big brother role more now than ever before.

“She does.” Yoosung agreed with Jumin, the smile fading from his face as he looked at their friends. “Did the surgeon say anything about Saeyoung’s shoulder?”

Zen sighed, wishing that his head would stop throbbing. “He’ll need more surgeries. They don’t know if his arm will ever regain full function.”

“What about Jaehee?” Jumin adjusted the buttons of his shirt as he spoke, trying to avoid his gaze. The guy was a mess, but Zen had to give him credit for trying.

“They’re prepping her for surgery now. She’s a bit loopy, so they finally kicked me out of the room. They said she should be out in a few hours.” Jaehee was probably the luckier of the four of them, since she was on so many painkillers that she couldn’t do anything but giggle and stare at his face. He was glad his presence had been able to make her happy, at least. He didn’t feel like he was doing a good job being useful for anything else.

It had been six hours since Jumin’s security team had rushed in with the police and rescued them all, but it felt like an entire lifetime had gone by. For four and a half of those hours they had been out of their minds with worry because Nicky had been in ‘critical’ condition. They had thought she was going to die, and they couldn’t even talk about it because they had lost so many things already. He couldn’t even imagine what the world would look like if she weren’t in it. Zen had been so relieved when a surgeon had come out to tell them that she was stable that he had hugged the man, and then hugged Jumin, which had immediately resulted in a glaring match between them when they realized what they had done. It had been nice to know some things hadn’t changed.

Zen grimaced, trying not to think about the utter darkness that had filled him when he thought she had died back in that awful place. “What about your face, Ducky? You break anything?”

Yoosung scowled at him, but the expression made him wince so he ended it with a sigh. “No, nothing broke, but the bruising is apparently really deep, or something, so I have to keep icing it for the next two days.” He shuddered, closing his eyes and pouting. “I’m freezing. I wish it would have been a heat pack instead.”

“They give you anything for the pain?”

“Yes, but I haven’t taken it yet.” His gaze returned to the other end of the hospital room, more tears shimmering at the edges of the eye Zen could see around the mass of ice. Poor kid hadn’t even stopped crying until about twenty minutes ago, and now it looked like he would start all over again. “I didn’t want to fall asleep until we got to see them.”

“Oy, why the crowd?” Vanderwood’s voice startled them, and they all turned to see her walking down the hall with a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked exhausted. As exhausted as he felt.

“The idiots crawled into the same bed.” Zen nodded towards the room, and Vanderwood strolled over and peered around their heads.

She scowled. “Dumb ass, he’s going to mess up her stitching.”

“That’s what _I_ said!” he smiled at her, and she returned the expression.

“They have been through enough. They deserve whatever comfort they can find.” Jumin’s eyes didn’t move from the floor as he spoke. “How is Saeran?”

“Sleeping.” She sipped her coffee to hide the frown that crept across her face. “They got the blood analysis back, and he was on just about every hallucinogenic that there is.”

“Jesus.” Zen exhaled slowly, trying not to think about the fact that it had been Rika that put him on all of them in the first place. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Medically, or otherwise?” she raised an eyebrow, and when none of them responded she opted to continue unprompted. “They aren’t sure. He’s pretty fucked up from taking that shit for so long, so they’re worried about his heart as he tries to come off of it. Has anyone told them yet?” she jerked her head towards Saeyoung and Nicky.

Zen shook his head. “No, they’ve been asleep.”

“They woke up at least once, since Saeyoung swapped beds. Should we try to wake them back up?”

“No.” Jumin turned away from the room, walking back out into the hall. “Let them find what happiness they can in sleep.”

“Well, aren’t you poetic.” Vanderwood took another loud sip of coffee, then sighed. “I should get back. I don’t want him to wake up while I’m gone.”

Jumin cleared his throat. “Thank you. For waiting with him.”

“Shut up.” She waved off the gratitude as she turned and headed down the hall. “I’ll worry about Twitch right now, you guys just keep it together and take care of yourselves.”

She turned the corner and disappeared, and Yoosung tilted his head to the side, adjusting the ice pack. “What a weird woman.”

Zen laughed. “Yeah, but I kind of like her.”

“You would.” Jumin smirked, although there was no light in his eyes so the expression still rang hollow. “Come, we should all try to get some rest. I had the nurses prepare a room for us, since I had a feeling none of us would be leaving any time soon.”

“I don’t think I can ever sleep again.” Zen clenched and unclenched his fingers, wondering if he could slip out for a smoke. He had quit cold turkey at Nicky’s behest, but maybe the events of the day warranted a slip-up. He didn’t want to try and sleep, so smoking seemed a better option. If he slept he might dream, and if he had dreams they would all be about bullet wounds and Saeyoung begging Nicky to start over. He didn’t want to relive those things yet, not even in his head.

“Too bad, try anyways.” Jumin tugged at his elbow, dragging him along as Yoosung trailed after them.

He didn’t have the energy to fight, so he went along with it. Nicky would probably buy him a fedora for having a cigarette, anyways. He hated to admit it, but Jumin was right. They all needed sleep.

When they reached the room, his eyes were closed before his head hit the pillow, and because there was still some grace in the God that watched over them, he drifted into a dreamless slumber.

***

It was dark. He opened his eyes, and for a moment he couldn’t tell that anything had changed. There was a window, though. He could see the stars outside. He had been looking for them, but now that he saw them he didn’t think they seemed right. Something seemed off.

He had done something terrible. He couldn’t remember what it was, but he knew that it was bad. It was the worst thing that he had ever done. It hurt to think about it.

His throat felt dry, and he tried to swallow but it only made him choke, so he started coughing in response. As he moved he realized that there was something stuck to his arm. It stung, like a bee was taped to the inside of his elbow. He must have done something wrong. It always hurt when he did something wrong.

He remembered screaming. Not his. He didn’t think so, at least. He could remember that someone had been screaming…and then someone else had been screaming. He remembered the click of the metal against his finger. He had done something terrible.

He shivered. He needed his medicine. It was time for another dose, that was why his throat was so dry. Maybe the Savior would bring it soon.

Something wet rolled down the side of his face, and he lifted his hand to his cheek. Tears? How strange. Perhaps he was lonely. He was always lonely. He didn’t think there was another way that he could be. Did that usually make him cry? He had spent so many hours locked in the rooms with the computers, trying to learn all the codes to make the Savior happy. Computers were quiet, lonely things. They connected the world with empty screens, and showed people pretty colors to make them think that they were full. He was a lot like a computer. The medicine could make his colors real, though. He felt so pale without them.

His hands were shaking, and it made his bones hurt. He looked out the window, but the stars seemed disappointed. He just wanted to go home. He didn’t like this place. It made him feel more alone.

“You’re awake.” The voice in the doorway startled him, but it still felt like his head moved in slow motion as he turned to look at the woman standing there. She had a cup in her hand. Medicine? No. He could smell the strong scent of coffee carried in the steam wafting through the hole in the lid. She was looking at him with sad eyes, and he wondered if the terrible thing he had done had hurt her. Did he care? She was familiar. He was afraid of her. He wished that he knew why.

“I want to go home.” The words tumbled out of him before he could stop them. He sounded small. Maybe he had been shrinking while he slept. Maybe he was as big on the outside as he was on the inside. No, if he were that small then she wouldn’t be able to see him. He would be a grain of sand on the windowsill, begging the moon to return him to the sea.

“You can’t go back home.” She leaned against the door frame, and her eyes searched him for answers he didn’t know how to give. “Do you remember what happened?”

“No.” There was an emptiness inside his chest and it hurt. It hurt so much that he wasn’t sure he could keep on carrying it. He wanted to tell her about it, but she wouldn’t understand. Everything was painful. He remembered doing something bad. Long ago; not so long ago. He must be a bad person. Maybe that’s why he was in so much pain. He was being punished.

“Do…you remember who _you_ are?” she asked this question slowly, and he couldn’t keep himself from rolling his eyes, which he regretted because that made his headache much worse.

“Yes.” She didn’t look like she believed him, so he sighed and rattled off what he knew about himself. “I’m Saeran. I help the Savior. I…” he realized that there was more truth there than he wanted to reveal, the memories of the day hovering just beyond his reach. He felt like if he kept going with his list he would be able to see the whole picture, and he didn’t want to. _I hate my brother. I did something terrible. I made the stars sad, but I didn_ _’t mean to. I’m so angry and I don’t know why. I want to die._ “I hurt.”

She walked into the room, setting her cup down on the table by his bed. “That’s because the drugs are already starting to wear off. That IV in your arm is working on clearing your blood.” She pointed to the tube on his arm, and he stared at it, a snake with a single fang pricking into his skin. “It’s gonna hurt like shit until it’s done.”

His heart felt like it started playing a drum, and he could feel it shaking against the sides of his chest. It was because he had done something wrong. He had done something terrible, and so they would hurt him. “I’m sorry. I…I can be better. Just let me take the medicine, and I can do better. I know I did something bad, but if the Savior will just listen to me I can explain.” His cheeks were wet again, and his eyes felt hot.

She took his hand, cupping her larger fingers around his own. Her eyes were shining, warm and brown like chocolate. “I wish it were that easy, kid.”

He stared at their hands. It felt like she was holding him down to earth. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Did he want to fly? He couldn’t remember if anyone had ever held his hand before. If they had, it was a long time ago.

She reached over and pressed her palm onto his forehead, pushing him back against the pillows. He flinched, but it was gentle. It was a lullaby, sung with the press of skin on skin. He closed his eyes, and he felt more tears roll free from the edges.

“Shh, go back to sleep, Twitch.”

Sleep. He could do that, but he wanted to go home first. He wanted to see the Savior, and make sure she wasn’t mad at him. She would tell him if what he had done could be forgiven. She was the only one that could ever forgive him. He was hurting, though, so she must be angry. She always hurt him when she was angry. To make him stronger. _Strong enough to be better than your brother._

His eyes were starting to flutter between sleep and wake. He wasn’t ready. He had questions. He needed to know where he stood in the world. “Will the Savior be coming? Is she mad at me?”

“She can’t hurt you ever again.”

She had abandoned him. More tears. He wanted to protest. He wanted to sit up and escape from this prison. The Savior loved him. She had saved him. She only hurt him because it was for the best, because she loved him so much. Not anymore. Now he was alone again. His whole world was gone. Who was he without her? What could he hope to become without the guidance of her light? His throat was dry and burning. His tears were soft and searing. He wanted to die. It wouldn’t hurt so much if he were dead.

He fell asleep wishing there was another way to feel, and hoping that the emptiness in his chest would fill with something soon, even if he had to drown in it.


	67. Spilled Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they attempt to visit Saeran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. 
> 
> I actually should not have stayed up to do this I'm running on like four days straight of sleep deprivation and I don't even know if I made actual words at this point but I DID IT. EVEN THOUGH I'M PRETTY SURE I'M GONNA GET YELLED AT. 
> 
> Hope this chapter isn't too nonsensical.

He was cold, and the world wouldn’t stop shaking. It crawled inside his bones and made him shiver, carving out his marrow so that he was made of tiny fragments, splintering as they rattled across cold stone. They kept giving him blankets, but nothing helped. He just wanted the Savior. He just wanted his medicine.

The woman - she said her name was Vanderwood - told him that the Savior couldn’t see him. She said it was impossible. He didn’t understand. Did she hate him? He still didn’t want to remember why. He had done a terrible thing.

_Screaming. She was always screaming, except it came after and not before. The click against the palm of his hand, cold but warm like someone else had held it for him. His eyes, wide and mint, clouded like the misty morning. He didn_ _’t close them. Not even when he fell._

He had started throwing up everything they gave to him. It all tasted like ash. He couldn’t remember what things were supposed to taste like, his tongue dry and useless as it kept clinging to the roof of his mouth. It didn’t taste any different coming back up than it had going down, but it hurt more. Everything hurt. Sometimes they put something in the IV, and he would feel empty for awhile. That was before the shivering had started, though. That was before he had become a bag of broken glass, dangling in the ravenous wind.

People were here, but he didn’t look at them. He wanted to keep looking at the sky. It was big, and blue today. He couldn’t see the sun, but he felt its light. That was nice. He wished it would return, though. Maybe if the sun could come and burn him away he wouldn’t be so cold. The light could hit the bits of him that were broken, making rainbows as they glittered off the jagged edges. He could be the rainbows.

_Blood on the ground, redder than it should have been. It was brighter laying against the marbled gold. The look on her face as she watched him fall, green eyes gaping. Screaming. She was always screaming, except it came after and not before. Her face was true. He hadn_ _’t put her light out, but she had stopped shining. Now she was dull, a smoking husk like the hole of a bullet._

Someone was talking to him. He didn’t want to listen. Words were worthless. They piled up in his head, bricks in a wall that wound its way around his heart, keeping him far away from everything. He had enough words to build a hundred walls. He had words that were true, and words that were lies. He didn’t need any more.

“Good morning, Saeran.”

_Stars._

He turned, and she was sitting in a wheelchair that had been rolled next to his bed. She smiled, and her eyes were so bright. Not blinding. Just bright.

_Blood pouring from her middle, red dot dripping to the pool. She was like spilled wine, scattering across the gold to make it drunken and lonely. Her mouth had been open and silent, her screams as empty as the eclipsed moon. Down, down, down she sank, beneath the horizon. The glittering floor held her, a cradle of cold uncaring. She reached for his brother, and then her hand stopped moving. It stopped moving and it fell to the ground. Spilled wine. She was spilled wine and the stars had all fallen from the sky, come to carry her home._

He swallowed. He had thought she was gone. She had been sent to paradise by another’s hand. He had been jealous. He blinked at her, trying to stop the trembling in his limbs so he could see her clearly. She wavered, so she may not be real. Or perhaps he was wavering, and had never existed at all.

“Has he said anything?” someone else was talking, and the voice made his stomach lurch. Wrong. He felt too many things when he heard it. His brain split down the middle, raw meat steaming in the winter air. He would disappear, one wisp of vapor at a time. He hoped so. If he didn’t exist then he wouldn’t have the storm crashing through his chest, breaking down his ribs as logs to make fires in his lungs. Dead. He wanted to be dead. He wanted his other half to be dead. The Savior should have been here so she could make him tell her what was true. He didn’t know the answers anymore.

_Save me._

“Saeran…can you hear me?” he hadn’t stopped looking at her. The lonely girl with the ruby hair, the one who stole the stars from the sky. She lived. Was that why the Savior was gone? Because the stars lived in her stead?

_Screaming. She was always screaming, except it only ever came after and not before. The man with the mint eyes looked at her like she was the sun, and Saeran had meant to put her out. Bullet in the chest, air wheezing through the hole. The gun had clicked in his palm, warm like someone else had been holding it for him. It couldn_ _’t have been him because he was never warm. He was dark and alone and all he wanted to do was kill the sun. He loved the sun. He should kill the sun. The sun could only burn._

She rolled her chair closer, trying to meet his gaze, but the world was blurred and wasted. He was a ghost. She wouldn’t be able to see him. He vibrated between the lines of the world, and when he shook for long enough he would disappear in the cracks. _Kill me._

Someone took his hand, and he turned his head to see him, standing there like the world was okay. Saeyoung.

_Ice cream in the park before the sun set on the sapphire pond. He had dripped some on his shirt and that was how his mother knew. Stars on the rooftop, counting them as he imagined splattering against the ground. Would it feel like her fist if he landed just right? One last caress, to remind him who owned him. Leaving. A hundred dreams across a hundred nights, all the many ways he_ _’d left him. Always his brother’s back receded, and always the chains kept his feet from following._

He jerked his hand away, and it sent agony racing through his arm. Tears. There were tears on his cheeks again and he hated them. How could he come here, now, and bring him tears and pain on his deathbed?

“Don’t touch me.” He was feral and cruel, snapping like a rabid dog beaten into a rotted corner. Saeyoung had come and made the world change. He did it every time. He brought hope and light, sometimes in the form of lies and other times in the eyes of the girl that swallowed the stars. He looked at her, and she was talking, but he couldn’t hear the words. All that came out of her mouth were the screams, her screams when Saeyoung had been hit, her screams ripping through the room and digging into his brain with hooks and knives and innocent fingers.

_She fell, like red wine spilling on the marble. This time when her mouth opened she was screaming. It was the sound of the past, filling her lungs and hurtling through her lips, crashing into him like the accusation it should have been. She wasn_ _’t laughing at him. The Savior had been wrong. Laughing would have been so much better than the screaming._

“Stop. Make her stop.” He couldn’t breathe, the shaking spreading from the middle of his head and throttling his air. She wouldn’t stop screaming.

She drew back, hurt pooling in her gaze like spilled wine. _Smeared across the floor, hand prints in the middle where his brother had tried to scoop it up and put it back in._ His brother pulled her back further, moving the chair away. His fingers gripped the handle, and Saeran wouldn’t look at his face. He didn’t want to see the fear. He didn’t want to see the threat. She was sacred, and could not be maligned. She was his Savior, and his own Savior was gone. He always did take everything for his own.

“Get out. Make them get out.” He flung the words like arrows, fast and far, hoping they would sink to the fletching in his brother’s miserable heart.

“Saeran…” she was full of tears and stars and wine that hadn’t yet spilled, and he hated it. He missed the sun. He missed the burn of the medicine and fingers threaded through his hair. He hated the emptiness in his chest. He hated the memories that were there and gone and there again, indecisive and lying to him. None of it was real, all of it had been true. Lies, and honesty. He had done a terrible thing, and he couldn’t stand to see her looking at him like she wanted to make it better. _Let me die. I want to die._

She opened her mouth, but all he heard was the screaming. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” he grabbed something from the edge of the table and hurled it at her. He didn’t know what it was, he didn’t care. He needed her screams to be far, far away, and if that meant throwing his rage at the stars then he would do it. He grabbed something else, flinging it with all his might. It hit Saeyoung’s stomach as he leaped in front of her, and that was better because he couldn’t see her anymore.

He shut his eyes. _The sun was so bright._ He tried to breathe. _She was screaming. She was always screaming._ He clenched his fists, fingernails pulling apart the skin in his palms. _Mint eyes that never closed._ He tried to imagine what it would feel like to be free. _Spilled wine, scattered in the arms of the stars._ He let the anger fill him.

It was easier. The rage felt better than the rolling emptiness, it was better than the seething quiet. He screamed, tearing at the sheets, ripping them like so many pieces of tissue, sending threads and shreds spinning into the room. Someone pressed his shoulders down, shoving him back on the bed. A butterfly landed on his arm and bit him. He let the anger follow him down as he sank into the oblivion inside of himself.

At least the shaking stopped when they made him sleep.

***

He brushed her hair out of her face, examining the side of her head. His heart felt like it was in a million pieces, rolled up in a ball of tape and stuffed back in his chest. Nicky waved his fingers away as they pressed against her temple.

“I’m fine, it was a plastic cup and he didn’t throw it that hard.”

He kissed the spot anyways, for good measure, then stood up straight to look at Vanderwood. “Has he been like that the whole time?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “No, that was a new one. He’s mostly been quiet, occasionally asking for that crazy chick.”

“Vanderwood!” Nicky scowled at her, but it was wholly ineffective coming from four feet below her where she sat in the wheelchair.

“What?”

“She’s sick.” Nicky wrinkled her nose. “Crazy just…it isn’t nice.”

“Oh my god, I swear one of these days I’m gonna turn around and your gonna be singing with little birdies on your fingertips.” Vanderwood crossed her arms over her chest, but when Nicky continued to glare she finally relented. “Fine, he keeps asking for the _morally_ _challenged_ chick.”

Saeyoung let them bicker, leaning against the wall and trying to let his heart rate return to normal. So, it was him. Showing up had made his brother get worse. The lies that Rika had told him were still simmering in his brain. What if he could never forget them? What if Saeran hated him for the rest of their lives?

“Hey.” Vanderwood rapped her knuckles against the side of his head, one hand on her hip. “Stop moping. You have to give him time. Those drugs aren’t even out of his system yet, and he’s going to be a little volatile until they are.”

“He was fine until I showed up.” He sounded hopelessly sullen, even to himself, so he slumped his shoulders. He regretted it when his shoulder protested, and he wondered how many times he was going to do that before he remembered not to move it.

“That boy hasn’t been fine for a long fucking time. None of it was your fault, either.” She ruffled his hair, knocking his glasses askew. “Relax. I’ll keep watch over him, and you can try again later. Now, take the Disney princess back to her bed and make her get some sleep, before _I_ start throwing cups at your heads.”

“I’m not tired.” Nicky pouted, and her protest was ruined as a yawn worked its way out of her lips.

He walked around her and grabbed the back of her chair, propelling her forward. “Come on love, mom says it’s bedtime.”

He picked up the pace as Vanderwood sighed. “Oy, I’m not your damn mom.”

Just before he turned the corner at the end of the hall he waved and winked at her. “Okay, bye mom.” Then he raced forward as he heard her swearing savagely behind their backs. Nicky laughed, which happened to be his favorite sound today, although she still winced when she did so too hard. He slowed down as they passed a surly orderly, and Nicky held in her giggles until they were back out of sight.

Her mirth did much to keep the darkness out of his mood, but it didn’t banish it completely. He stopped them in front of the door to their room, walking around to kneel in front of the chair. “Listen…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is this where you’re going to tell me I’m too fragile to visit him again?”

“Not _fragile,_ ” he ran his hand through his hair, sighing, “he’s too volatile. I don’t want him to hurt you. Again.”

“I want to help, though.” She looked at the floor, her gaze filling with regret. “I want to show him that there’s a better way than the darkness.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, loving every bit of her. “I know, space princess. I know.”

She leaned back in the seat, looking up at him. “If it will make it easier, I’ll wait until he’s better.”

“Thank you.” His relief was overwhelming, and hearing her say that made him feel like he could breathe again.

He rolled her back into the room and helped her into the bed, then he crawled in next to her, throwing the blankets over them both. It had been a few days, and they were both doing much better, but they still became exhausted after even the simplest activities, and so each outing usually resulted in another four hours of sleep. He listened to her breathing as she settled against his chest, feeling the rhythm as it become slow and even.

Patience. That’s what he had to have. He could do that. He could give his brother all the time in the world, if that’s what it took. It didn’t matter how many minutes, or hours, or days that stretched out where his anger remained. Saeyoung would be waiting. Waiting with the love of his life by his side, their arms open to welcome him to the family.

He could be patient, if that’s what it would earn.


	68. Stuffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin has feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the subplot that this kicks off is entirely the fault of blackgipsie and starkind. Blame them. Or credit them, depending on you feel about how this develops. 
> 
> Also, a few of you seem to be under the impression that the story is almost over. ALLOW ME TO DISILLUSION YOU. There is still a LOT of story left to tell. :) Sorry it's taking me so many words to tell it :p

_“Instead of ignoring it, when you encounter a confusing feeling I want you to stop and take a moment to reflect on it. You don’t have to understand it, but you should consider it. Accept that it exists, and that you are feeling it for a reason. Give it space in your head, and see if you can figure out what it means to you. It’s okay if that takes time. The point is to get more comfortable with the fact that you have feelings, and that they can sometimes be confusing or jumbled. Accept them, if you can put a name to them, and stop trying to ignore them in the hopes that they go away.” She smiled, patting him on the shoulder as she ushered him out the door. It sounded simple enough._

How could he put a name to what he was feeling? He had left the therapist’s office hopeful, but now he was filled with nothing but disquiet, his thoughts too chaotic to sift through. Ash had been insightful, professional, and he had thought her advice was exemplary. When she said it, it had not felt like such a daunting task, but the moment he had closed the door to his apartment and found himself alone with his thoughts, he had been less confident. Twenty-seven years of repression had built a monument of unknowable sensations inside of him, each day creating another brick to pile at the top. If he tried to identify one thing in his head a hundred others came tumbling down from the peak, and he was left overwhelmed and confused, drowning in the torrent of things he had refused to face his entire life.

He was lying on his couch with his arm thrown over his forehead, trying to fight the instinct to ignore the thoughts that ran in circles and flit away like moths dove into the roaring flame. Elizabeth the 3rd was curled against his stomach, but she could not aid him in his task. He stared at the ceiling. It was smooth, a flawless coat of paint undisturbed by color or design, a blank canvas that he could have chosen to do anything with. The possibilities had no limit, hindered only by the tastes of the artist. He was no artist, and could never comprehend the various moods and whims that swayed their hearts. When given a canvas, he had chosen emptiness. He had always chosen emptiness. He had chosen it so many times that it had become a shrieking storm inside his head that confused him, addled him, and made him reckless when he had meant to be supportive. He did not want to be the man clinging to his friends until he crushed them to death. He did not want to be the love that destroyed all those around him.

Love, as he had understood it, was always for the artists. They could understand it, while he found it vexing and elusive.

_“Don’t be so stuffy.” His hair hung over his face, so only one of his eyes peered out across the dim alley. The light in his gaze could have guided ships across rocky shores, but it was always that smile that got Jumin to cave._

_“What if we get caught?” he pulled at the tie around his neck, the fabric making his skin itch, even through his shirt. His nanny said that good little boys always wore ties, but he didn’t like them._

_V grinned, tossing his hair out of his eyes._ _“Then we’ll go to prison, and we can form a gang and then we’ll all break out together.”_

_“I don’t wanna go to prison.” Jumin pouted, glancing to the front of the alley and shuffling his feet. He stopped when he realized he was scuffing his shoes, and his nanny would be so cross when she saw them. “Can’t you just do it on paper? Why’s it gotta be this wall?”_

_“Because that’s where it belongs.”_

_“It’s paint. I’m pretty sure they put that on canvas most the time.” Jumin smirked as V rolled his eyes._

_"Because the light is perfect here. Come on, stop worrying so much.” V hefted the bag of paint over his shoulder, then reached out and grabbed Jumin’s hand, pulling him forward. It was warm. He never wanted to let it go. He would follow V anywhere if it meant they could stay like this forever._

Jumin could count the number of times that V had taken his hand on just his fingers. It was strange that, of all the things that had happened in his life, each one of those times had been seared in his memories, more vivid than some of the images that remained of his mother. He wondered what things he had forgotten in order to hold on to them. Was there a moment in college that no longer existed because he remembered the time V had grasped his palm to pull him down into the pool? When he recalled the time V had clutched his fingers to drag him across the crowded room, slipping out of the party early so that they could sit on the roof while he took pictures of the city, had Jumin been forgetting the vital minutes of a meeting? They had been few and far between, but they stayed with him. Part of him. A part that he didn’t like to pay attention to, because he didn’t understand it. Was that what love was? Painting the smallest touches with the broadest strokes of meaning, holding them in the chambers of his heart to intrude upon his thoughts when he missed him the most?

If he were to follow directions, what other name would he give this phenomenon? What made the simple connections between them rise to the surface of his consciousness while V’s body lay wrapped in a frigid morgue? He was dwelling on every moment of their friendship that had been precious to him, replaying them like the viewing of a favorite film, or the perusal of a cherished book. The trouble they had chased as children, the determination they had found in their early youth, the bond they shared as they had grown into adults. There was no word for what V had meant to him. Friend was inadequate. Anything else was untrue, or too painful. He had been V, the embodiment of everything in the world that Jumin had held mystifying and wondrous. His name was the only label he could place on it, and it did little to make him understand it further. It was unkind to call it love when it had been so much more complex, no consummation to that meaning ever arising beyond the deep confusion that had forced him to push everything down. Until his death had forced it into the foreground, making him see feelings that he would have never been able to admit to prior.

He was in mourning, though he knew he shouldn’t be. He should still be angry. He should be furious that nearly everyone he knew had been hurt, both emotionally and physically, by V’s misguided attempt to love Rika. He should hate both with every fiber of his being, recoiling from their memories like poison leeching into his veins. Sometimes he could summon the loathing. When he saw Nicolette in the hospital bed, her shirt clinging to the bandages puffing out her middle. When he saw Saeyoung trying to clench his fist around a soft ball, failing. When he saw Saeran shaking in the bed, his eyes locked on the sky and full of despair. In those moments, he could hate V. For the things he had never said, for the things he had never done. For the inaction that had knocked over the first domino and sent the rest crashing down around them. The thing he had always hated most, though, was his absence. Now that was all there was left about him. Absence and regrets.

_“Don’t be so stuffy, Jumin.” Rika reached up and adjusted his tie for him, her thin fingers brushing down the length of cloth to place it in just the right spot. The strap for her dress had slipped off her shoulder, and his fingers twitched as he tried not to reach out and set it to rights. “You should smile more.”_

_Fingers slid beneath the errant piece of beaded cloth, fingers that were not Jumin_ _’s, pulling it up and lingering against her collarbone. V wrapped his arms around her, placing a gentle kiss against her cheek. “Jumin’s always stuffy.”_

 _He blushed and looked away from them._ _“I am not stuffy. I’m refined. There’s a difference.” He wasn’t sure why it was so hard to look at them when they were affectionate. When they were separate, they were all he could ever see. His gaze would trail across their own, watching the subtle movements of their lips when they spoke. Rika took his breath away, V mesmerized him. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t need to. It was the way it had always been, the way it would always be._

_So why did it hurt to see them so happy?_

_He told himself he was mistaken. He told himself that it brought him joy to see the light in their eyes. He told himself that it was enough._

_“Well, I don’t want you brooding through the entire dinner. If this goes well we may be able to start something bigger with the reputation we build.” Rika tactfully disentangled herself from V, sliding over to wrap her arms around Jumin’s elbow. “You’ll smile for me, won’t you?” Her hair spilled down her back like spun gold, and he could smell her perfume as she hugged him closer._

_He complied, bemused, his heart fluttering like the whiskers of a rabbit in a field of greens. She was warm. He didn_ _’t want to let go. He would have done anything for her, if it meant they could have remained in that moment forever._

Rika was dead, too. Her heart was beating, but her mind had been taken from her as V bled to death at her feet. That bullet had been meant for her, and it had hit V to claim them both. Both gone. Three weeks ago, this knowledge would have made him feel hopelessly alone, but he knew better now. Better faith had been instilled into his bones, and he knew that his world had always been larger than Rika and V, he had just failed to see it. He had turned away from it because they were all he had wanted in his view. Now he knew that he had more than he could have ever thought possible, but he still felt empty.

Love. There were many forms, each one more confusing than the last, but he could admit now that it was what he wanted. He wanted what Nicolette and Saeyoung had together. He wanted what was building between Zen and Jaehee, or what had begun between Yoosung and Anna. Was there someone out there for him? He felt as though there were only so many times he could be surprised by people, and perhaps he had used up all his chances. Perhaps he had met all the people he would ever care about, and none of them could love him. He would be filled with emptiness until he became a huddled statue, cherished by friends that could never move his stony soul.

Emptiness. That was the name for this feeling. It was many other things, all subtle, all entangled, but its primary purpose was to make him feel hollow. Now that he could name it, he still couldn’t understand it. He still couldn’t understand why he would remember a smile or a laugh at the end of the night and the tears would begin again. He still didn’t understand why he couldn’t hate the man that had nearly destroyed them all. He couldn’t understand why the world felt so much colder knowing he wasn’t in it.

Perhaps he should accept his fate, and embrace the emptiness rather than fight it. Perhaps that was what his therapist had meant by acknowledging how he felt.

Perhaps his destiny was to be alone.


	69. I Might Have a Thing for You Wearing My Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it took me 7500 words to say "they had pizza and did it".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY IS THIS CHAPTER SO LONG? I DON'T KNOW. HOPE YOU GUYS WANTED FLIRTING AND SMUT TONIGHT. 
> 
> Aaaaaaaalso , there is some wonderfully adorable and blissfully lovely art at the end of this chapter by the darling http://i3cnya.tumblr.com/
> 
> I used the line art because I thought it fit well with the tone of this chapter, but there is also a very pretty colored version on their tumblr page. PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT, IF YOU ARE ON TUMBLR. 
> 
> If you aren't on tumblr, PLEASE YELL ABOUT THIS GREAT ART AND ARTIST IN THE COMMENTS SO THEY KNOW THAT WE APPRECIATE THEM AND THEIR HARD WORK. 
> 
> I'm just gonna go cry now about anyone making art for my characters ever k bai. I AM NOT WORTHY.

It had been two weeks, but now they found themselves stepping out of the sliding doors and into the sunset of late evening. The sky was already tinged with lavender, the air frigid with the onslaught of winter bearing down on the ending season. She felt like she had missed the end of autumn, all the leaves having finished dropping from the trees, and she had been flipped forward in time to land just before the first snowfall.

They were cleared to go home. Finally. Technically Saeyoung had been given permission to leave last week, but he had refused to go home without her, so Jumin had pulled some strings on their behalf to get the hospital staff to agree. He still had another surgery he would need before his arm could completely recover, so they would be back at some point, but for now they had both been given a clean bill of health. Her sutures had healed enough that she was fit for most normal activity, though she was advised to avoid anything too strenuous for another two weeks. In truth, she had felt ready to leave at the same time as Saeyoung, but they had concerns over some of the damage that the bullet had caused, so they wanted to watch her numbers carefully to ensure it was healing as expected. She had thought the day might never come, but this morning the doctor had smiled and told her she was free to go.

She was almost sad to leave. The hospital had been sparse, and often boring, but it had also been a bubble of warmth where they didn’t have anything to worry about but each other and their friends. Now they had to go back out and face the world with the daunting task of trying to resume normal lives. Not only was the funeral coming up in a few days, but she would also have to return to school the Monday after. She wasn’t looking forward to it, and she would have loved to take additional time off to finish healing and mourn everything that had happened, but she had already missed two weeks _before_ her life had been turned upside down, then taken additional time while she was in the hospital. If she didn’t want to fail the semester, she would have to go back and work her ass off to catch up.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Saeyoung grabbed her hand, twining his fingers with hers. He still had his right arm in the sling, but he was getting adept at using the left to reach out for her as often as possible. He smirked, and she found it hard to remain stressed when he had such a happy smile on his face.

“So…I don’t actually know where we go from here.”

“What?” her heart was trying to stop in her chest, and she had to tell herself he didn’t mean that the way it had sounded. He couldn’t have.

He rolled his eyes, letting go of her hand so he could grab her and pull her close, kissing her with slow patience. “I saw that panic in your face. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling. “Sorry, it still feels a little too good to be true.”

“With our luck that’s not surprising.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “What I meant was I don’t know where we should go from here, as in a _destination_.”

“Oh.” She chewed on her lower lip as she thought about it. They hadn’t decided much about where they would be heading once they left the coldly lit sterility of the hospital. Would he want to return to his place? She didn’t even have any idea where he lived, much less how far it was from where they currently stood. Returning to Rika’s old apartment seemed inappropriate now, especially since it had been searched by the police and they had no idea what condition they had left it in. There _was_ one place that she knew would be close by, and it certainly didn’t carry the weighted memories either of the other options entailed. “We could go to my apartment.”

“I don’t know if I want to go back there until I remove the failsafe.” He frowned. “Although Vanderwood did say she trashed my security system as payback for smacking her in the head, so maybe my place isn’t the best -”

She reached up and tugged on his earlobe. “No, dummy. Not Rika’s apartment, _my_ apartment. Or did you just think I appeared out of thin air a month ago?”

“Your place?” a blush crept across his cheeks. “I suppose that would be good.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, the bag of their clothes in her hands swinging with the motion. “Why so bashful, hm?”

“I’m not…It’s just…” his blush deepened, which made her giddy. “I just haven’t ever been to a girl’s place before.”

“Really? Smooth-talker like you never got into some innocent girl’s apartment?” his blush continued to turn a darker shade of red, and she adored it more and more each second.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I got into a lot of things belonging to girls, but never their apartments. I never cared enough.” He leaned down and kissed her, his lips warm after the ice air had chilled her own. She shivered in spite of it, and in spite of the warm jacket she was ensconced in. “Cold?”

“Yes, let’s get going before I turn into a popsicle.” She stepped apart, and he grabbed her hand as they headed towards the parking lot. It wasn’t a long walk, and when they arrived at the edge Saeyoung fished the keys Jumin had provided out of his pocket, holding them up and clicking the unlock button as they stared at the lot.

They caught sight of the flashing headlights of the car, and Saeyoung grimaced. “Ugh, he brought the automatic.”

She walked under his hand, grabbing the keys as she passed. “Good, since I’m driving.”

“Hey!”

“No arguments, you can’t drive anything one handed.” She skipped ahead, rushing to the door before he had a chance to catch her, throwing it open and hopping in. She leaned her head out and stuck her tongue out at him before she closed it.

His laughed pealed through the air before she shut the door and was swallowed by silence. She put the key in the ignition, turning it on and then flicking on the heater. Saeyoung opened the door on his side, getting in with a huge grin on his face. They both got situated, and she helped him click the seatbelt into place, then pulled the car out of park and started heading out of the lot.

“To Saturn!” he held his arm out, as though ordering a charge, and she rolled her eyes and laughed.

“It’s definitely not Saturn. I don’t even think it would be as nice as the space station. It’s more like…Pluto.”

He reached across the seat and brushed her hair away from her cheek, tugging lightly at her earlobe in a mirror of her own habit. “Hm. Perfect, nobody visits Pluto, so I’ll have you all to myself.”

The idea made her feel warm all over, and instilled in her a driving eagerness to go somewhere that they could be alone. It would be strange to be back at her own place after everything that had happened, though. She wondered if it would still feel as empty as it always had. As she turned into the road and started making her way there, she glanced at the man in the passenger seat, his eyes on her like he couldn’t bear to take them away. No, her home couldn’t ever be empty if she brought him into it. Nowhere could be empty ever again, so long as he was at her side.

It only took about five minutes to navigate through traffic and arrive at the gates to her building. The entire place looked odd to her now, and as she put the car in park she stared up towards her window, the curtains drawn and dark. Had it only been a month since she had last left? She half expected to walk in and discover the place empty, as though she had never really been there at all. If felt like the person she used to be had disappeared. Since her assault, she had been living as half a shadow, trapped in some transitional phase that would not let her be whoever it was she was supposed to be. She had gone through the motions, chasing the dreams that she remembered she was supposed to have, but every day things had seemed a little darker and the vision of who she was became a little harder to see.

Now it seemed obvious. She could look inside herself and know that the things she found there represented a real person, not a shadow that had been hidden from the world. She had survived more than she would have ever thought herself capable of, and she had done it not only without losing pieces of herself, but somehow gaining bits that had been lost before, adding them to the whole.

“Have you disappeared to outer space on me?” Saeyoung’s smile was soft as he looked at her, and she realized she had been staring at the window, lost in thought.

“Sorry, just…strange to be back.” She shrugged, unsure how else she could possibly sum up all her confusing revelations.

He reached over and brushed his thumb along her chin. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“No, that’s not it.” She shook her head and smiled, feeling silly for letting her thoughts get the better of her sense. “Come on, I’m starved and I’m dying to take a shower with my own damn shampoo again.” She took his hand and kissed his palm before switching off the car and opening the door. He gave her a strange look, but in the end he chuckled and followed suit.

They made a brief stop by the front office so that she could pick up the spare key they had arranged to have made for her when she had realized the original was lost in Rika’s apartment somewhere. Once that task had been completed she led Saeyoung around the corner to her building and they trekked up the stairs together. She unlocked the door and opened it, and as she walked in it was like stumbling into a world that hadn’t been disturbed for a thousand years.

It was smaller. Or it felt that way. Her couch, sagging in the center of the room like a partially deflated balloon, seemed to take up far more space than it used to. The bookshelf placed against the wall looked shabbier, and she was a little embarrassed at how disorganized it was. There were books and comics crammed into every available inch of space, none of them in any kind of order that would make sense if she were trying to locate anything. There was also a cheap coffee table in front of her couch, a shorter shelf serving as a place to put her modest TV and games, and a ratty rug laying in front of the door to her bedroom.

She took another step into the room, dropping the bag of their things beneath the overhanging kitchen counter, and started taking off her shoes before she realized Saeyoung was just standing outside the door, peering in as though looking through a portal to another dimension. He looked so petrified of everything that he saw that she couldn’t help but laugh, and his gaze widened and snapped over to her.

“You know, you don’t have to stand outside. You can come in.”

He blushed. “Oh, right.” He took a single step into her entryway, and she had to roll her eyes when he stopped short there, staring at the posters on her walls and fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket.

“Close the door.” The request was soft, but he jumped to comply. When it was shut she held her arms out, inviting him into her embrace. “Now come here.”

She watched the tension in his shoulders ease as he walked forward, melting into her and wrapping his left arm around her waist. She laced her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled his head down into a kiss, parting his lips to impart her affections against his tongue. He sighed, his breath warm against the side of her face, and for a moment she let herself be carried away by the joy of being in his arms.

“Sorry I’m so weird.” He murmured the apology against the corner of her mouth, reluctant to let go of her lips. “I have no idea how a normal relationship is supposed to work.”

“’Normal’ is whatever we decide it is, love.”

He kissed her again, and she let him take her breath away before the entire mood was ruined when her stomach growled, loudly enough that she was sure the neighbors would hear it. She felt her cheeks catch fire as they both started giggling, and he gazed down at her with a lopsided grin.

“I guess you are hungry.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss the bottom of his jaw before drifting out of his hold, turning around and making the short trip to her kitchen. She wrinkled her nose as she opened the refrigerator door, but she already knew what she would find there. A whole bundle of groceries, all of them spoiled because she had disappeared the day after she bought them and left them to rot for a month.

Saeyoung walked over to rest his chin on the top of her shoulder, staring at the ruined food. “So…pizza?”

“Pizza sounds excellent.”

He kissed her cheek before standing up to fish his phone out of his pocket, flipping through to pull up his browser so he could locate dinner options. He stopped, his finger frozen on the screen as he looked up at her again, somewhat alarmed. “Wait, what do you even like on your pizza?”

She laughed again, biting her lip. “You want the vanilla order, or the secret one I only order when I’m alone?”

“Oh, _definitely_ the secret order.”

She leaned against her kitchen counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “Chicken, olives, artichokes, feta cheese, mushrooms, white sauce with extra garlic if possible, and on thin crust cooked so that it’s just a little bit burned around the edges.”

He feigned a shocked gasp while his thumb tapped different points on his phone’s screen. “Scandalous! So many toppings. And white sauce! It’s like it’s not even pizza anymore.”

“White sauce is a perfectly legitimate pizza option, and anybody who says otherwise is a heathen.”

He walked over and scooped her up in an embrace, stealing a kiss before stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “I ordered through the site, so your culinary monstrosity is on it’s way.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to order it! You could have gotten what you wanted.”

“What I want can’t be put on a pizza.” He tilted his head to the side, considering his statement. “Well, it _could,_ but I don’t think it would be very comfortable to get covered in cheese and toppings.”

She laughed as he peppered the side of her neck with kisses. “What?”

“Nothing, just ignore me.” He mumbled the words into her skin, which made her shiver. He continued trailing his lips along her neck, and just when her eyes were starting to flutter closed he pulled away, grinning down at her with a smug glint in his gaze.

“Fine, be coy.” She rolled her eyes after he gave her a wink, then she reached up to pull at his earlobe. “Would you mind keeping yourself company for a bit while I go take a shower?” he nodded, his gaze returning to the tiny room and its threadbare furnishings. “Make yourself at home.” He nodded again, though she wasn’t convinced he had really heard her, so she placed her fingers against his cheek and turned his head so he was looking at her. “Saeyoung, I want you here, and I want you to feel at ease. There’s nothing in here that I wouldn’t be willing to share with you, so try to relax.”

He exhaled, his anxiety melting into bemused adoration. “Thank you.” He gave her a kiss and then let her go, walking over to the couch and settling into the seat. “Enjoy your shower, space princess.”

She walked over to the bathroom, opening the door and getting hit with the scent of her air freshener, far too strong after being bottled up for so long. Before she entered she turned, leaning against the frame to see him get up and examine the games below the TV. Seeing him there, standing in her home, made everything seem that much more real to her. Part of her had still been afraid that everything that had happened - both the good and the bad - had all been in her head, and that as soon as she returned home the spell would be broken, and she would be alone again. As though it had just been a game, and the data would disappear once she reached the end. She wasn’t alone, though. He was real, and alive, and they were in love. If those three things remained true, she would never be alone again.

She entered the bathroom and proceeded with her shower. She spent an inordinate amount of time luxuriating in the comfort of her own things, things that she did not have to feel strange touching because they had belonged to a girl that she had thought was dead or gifted to her by a man who had far too much money on his hands. When her skin was finally starting to turn bright pink from the heat she turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping a clean towel around her middle. She considered putting the same clothes back on, but when she picked them up they smelled like the hospital, and she immediately found the scent distasteful. She wrinkled her nose and let them drop back to the floor.

She opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam rushing out into the cold air. She was about to step towards her bedroom to grab something to wear when she was struck with a better idea, and instead she turned back towards the living room to grab the bag of clothes they had brought back with them. She paused when she caught sight of Saeyoung, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

He had turned on a game, and from the score on the screen he was playing with expertise, which would have been impressive on its own since he was holding the controller at a strange angle to be able to reach it with the arm still in the sling. At some point while she had been lost in the heat the shower the pizza must have come, and the box was laid out on the table, waiting to be opened. The perplexing thing, however, was that he was sitting upside down on her couch, his feet dangling over the back while his hair stood on end to brush her floor. His glasses hung crooked on the bridge of his nose, and he had a toothpick stuck in his mouth that wavered up and down while his eyes remained locked on the screen.

“Comfortable?” she bit the inside of her cheek, clutching the towel while she tried to hold in bubbling laughter that wanted to leap from her throat.

He smirked, performing a complicated kill in the game before he flicked his eyes in her direction. He had already opened his mouth to speak, but it hung that way silently as he did a double take to look at her again, lifting his head as he blinked. The toothpick tumbled across his face and onto the floor. “Towel.” He said the word like it was a revelation, and despite the utter ridiculousness of the scene spread before her, she still felt herself blushing as heat pooled near the bottom of her waist.

The character he was playing let out a dramatic scream as another player took him out, and Saeyoung swore and looked back at the TV, frowning as it announced the end to his streak. She rolled her eyes, continuing her march towards the bag of clothes to retrieve what she needed.

“So, is there a reason you were playing upside down?” she dug around in the bundle of things, shuffling them aside until she found the jade green fabric she was looking for.

He cleared his throat, and she turned to see part of his head peering over the edge of the couch, everything below the bridge of his nose invisible. “It was too easy otherwise.” His eyes were wide, his voice breathless, and it made the air flutter in her throat.

“Too easy? You must be pretty good then. I can never even rank in the matches for that game.” She turned, holding the shirt folded in her hands, and his pupils were dilated, his gaze glued to her.

“Uh-huh.” He hadn’t heard a word she said, though with the way he was looking at her she didn’t think she had enough presence of mind to care.

She strolled over to stand above the couch, his eyes never leaving her until he had to crane his neck to look up at her. “Something wrong, love?” she smirked, lifting a hand to trail her fingers through his hair, setting some of it to rights after its encounter with the other end of gravity.

He stood on his knees, twining his arm around her and pouncing on her throat with his lips. She gasped in surprise as the speed of his action caught her off guard, and she had to put her hand on his shoulder to brace herself as her knees tried to buckle. He dragged his teeth across her collar bone before trailing kisses lower. He stopped himself a few inched below her neckline, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck as her chest rose up and down, her breath already coming in quick rushes.

“You should eat. _Quickly_.” There was a growl to his voice that made her want to ignore the request completely. Her stomach was already protesting the thought, however, so she sighed, running her hand back through his hair to let it curl around her fingers.

“Can I get dressed first?”

He whined, then pulled away from her to fall back onto the couch, pouting. “Fine. I guess.”

She laughed as she shuffled into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She dug through her clothes - _her_ clothes, at last - until she found a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. She put them on, then slipped her arms into the sleeves of the shirt she had taken out of the bag. It was far too long for her, since it was Saeyoung’s and he was so tall sometimes it felt like she was hugging a tree. The hem rested across the top of her thighs, and the sleeves passed over the tips of her fingers. She played around with the buttons for a moment before she decided leaving them undone was best, and then she returned to the living room.

She opened the door to finding him standing right in front of it, his hand poised in the air like he had been about to knock. She yelped, taking a step back as she hadn’t expected him to be there.

“Sorry, you were taking a while and I wanted…to check…” his sentence trailed off as he looked at her, inhaling a slow, measured breath as his hand fell from its perch in the air. She watched as he swallowed, the muscles in his throat rippling as a shaking sigh worked its way out of his lips. He brought his hand back up and ran it through his hair, closing his eyes. “Okay, I _might_ have a thing for you wearing my clothes.”

She placed her hands behind her back, leaning forward on the tips of her toes so that she could whisper in his ear. “Pizza smells good, hm -”

He smashed his lips against her own before she could finish the sound, kissing her with a voracity that made her head spin. His tongue danced around her own for several precious, breathless seconds before he pulled back, biting her bottom lip as a groan worked its way out of his chest.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “Don’t make that sound, or you won’t get a chance to eat dinner.”

“Hm, good point.” She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back with gentle pressure, walking around him to head over to the couch. “Wouldn’t want it to get cold, after all.” Her legs were shaking as she took each step, but she did her best to saunter across the room until she bounced into the seat. She looked over her shoulder at him, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight.

He took a deep breath, then shook himself out like a dusty jacket before he finally smiled at her and made his way back to his seat. “You, my space princess, are pure evil.”

“Yep.” She leaned forward, popping the lid to the pizza box and inhaling the smell of still warm food. Her stomach was screaming at her insistently, and so for the moment she convinced herself to stop thinking about the look in his eyes and focused on eating. They settled in with food, and after two weeks of hospital dining she had never tasted anything better in her life. She _almost_ hummed in appreciation, but stopped herself, since she kind of wanted to finish dinner before driving him insane, now that they had started.

“So, how does it feel to be back?”

She looked around the room, seeing things that were hers in a place that had never felt like it was. “Comforting to have access to my stuff…but…I don’t know. This place hasn’t felt like a real home in a long time.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, after I…uh…everything happened at school, I sort of stopped feeling like anywhere was safe. I lived here, but I was just as anxious here as I was anywhere else. Therapy helped, a bit, but looking around, all I can really think of is how empty the world felt the three weeks before I left. I was very lonely.”

He slid across the seat so he could bump his shoulder into hers. “Still lonely?”

“Of course not.” She smiled, and the shadows of her past felt very far away when she looked at him.

He took a bite of pizza, chewing as he mulled over his words. “You could move.”

“Actually…do you think Jumin would let me stay in Rika’s old place?” she bit her lip as she waited for his reaction, which was to blink at her in surprise.

“You want to live there? After everything that happened?”

“Well, I thought it might be a good idea to have someone go over everything that she left behind carefully, in case there’s anything important that we missed. I could give up this place and stay there until everything has been sorted, then look for something more permanent.”

He frowned. “I don’t want you over there again until I can remove the failsafe, though.”

“I am more than okay with that.” She sighed. “Do you think Jumin would mind, though?”

“He’ll probably be grateful for the idea. He’s been stressed trying to get to the bottom of everything, and the police investigation hasn’t been helping much. He’s worried that if we can’t figure everything out we won’t be able to stop the cops from doing it first, and then Saeran, Vanderwood, and probably _me_ would get tossed in jail.”

“And me. I was just as much a part of it as you were.” She finished her slice of pizza, setting the plate on the table.

“They’d have to fight me first.”

She sighed, shifting his arms to the side so that she could lay in his lap, looking up at him. “Please stop fighting people for me. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.”

“No promises.” He grinned before stuffing the last of the pizza in his mouth and leaning over her to set his own plate on the table. “You know, this was actually pretty good.”

She slapped him in the stomach, and he pretended to be wounded. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He saluted her as he finished chewing, and she rolled her eyes. “So, what do you put on your pizza when no one’s watching?”

He swallowed, toying with a strand of her hair as he smirked. “Ham, and then when it gets there I sprinkle crushed Honey Buddha chips all over it.”

“Ugh, that sounds terrible.” She grimaced, and he poked his finger into her side, making her dissolve into giggles.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

She reached up and trailed her finger along his cheek, wanting to feel the smile that rested there. He looked so at ease in this moment, like all his worries were far away, and she wished she could hold him close and keep it that way. Saeran had been weighing on his conscience heavily, a mass of regret and guilt that no one could shake except the very person who was causing it. He still hadn’t let Saeyoung back in to see him. He had tried to visit his little brother twice, once after Vanderwood had announced he was keeping down food, then again when she had told him his shaking had subsided. The first time Saeran had immediately started throwing up again, and the second he had gotten so angry that they had to sedate him to keep him from hurting himself. The only person Saeran was allowing in the room was Vanderwood, but he was by no means comfortable with her. She had a cut across her arm from the time he had flung a lamp across the room, and the glass had torn through her shirt. They were searching for a therapist who would be able to help him, but there weren’t a lot of specialists for people who had been drugged and brainwashed by girls who had fancied themselves cult leaders.

“You look worried.” His voice was soft, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into the moment.

“Sorry, just got lost in my own head for a minute.” She sat up, leaning forward as she grabbed his chin, pulling him down to meet her. She kissed him, and as his sigh urged her lips apart a whispered moan rolled off her tongue and onto his. The sweetness of the kiss gave way to tingling awe as the spark between them flared to life. His hand rose around to the back of her head, pulling her closer, trailing lightning across her skin wherever he touched. She moaned again, and it ignited another burst of rushing heat and blood between them. He nibbled his way across her jaw until he could suck the skin beneath her ear, drawing more sounds from her as her eyes fluttered closed.

“I’m not…” she gasped as his teeth scraped across her neck, fireworks and fireflies dancing in her vision as her pulse quickened. “Strenuous. Something. Not supposed to do something strenuous.” She could barely string the words together, because at this point she wouldn’t care if her doctor were standing over her right now, scolding her even as she tried not to whine.

He shifted so that he could look at her, his eyes full of promise that made her shiver in response. “Then it won’t be strenuous.” His hand ran down across her stomach, his fingers pulling up the edge of her tank top to brush across her skin. She adjusted herself so that she could kiss him, half perched in his lap and half laying on the couch. As their lips met his hand roamed further, dipping below the waistband of her shorts and down between her legs.

He let out a low groan that turned into a growl, the sound vibrating down her throat. “You’re not wearing anything.”

She rocked her hips forward, forcing his fingers closer to where she wanted them, where she needed them. “No, I’m wearing your shirt.”

He delved into her and she threw her head back, reveling in the sweet pressure that sent arrows of pleasure up and down her spine. He rolled his thumb in a circle around the bundle of nerves at the top of her fold, the rest of his hand curving lower so that he could slip one finger inside of her. She arched her back, and he kissed along her neck. His rhythm was slow, agonizing as he dragged out each touch. She waited for the crescendo, for the increase in tempo that would bring her closer to the edge, to the cliff that she desperately wanted to dive from. It never came, every languid movement measured and drawn, leading her through bliss and blasphemy all at once.

“Saeyoung.” It was a plea, the only way that she could think to beg for more, to beg for everything. She felt his lips pull into a grin where he held them against her neck, and she whimpered because it was all that she could do. She was fire and he was fuel, and there was not enough air for her to burn much longer.

He removed his hand, and the sound she made was piteous at best. He slid his palm beneath the edge of her tank top, up across her rips and over her breasts as he moved so that his mouth was against his ear. “Would you like more?”

“Yes.” She could barely breathe, but she pushed the word out of her empty lungs.

“Would you like to move this to the bedroom then, where I can give you more?”

 _God yes._ “Yes.”

She swung her feet over the edge of the couch and stood, then nearly fell over as her rushing blood played havoc with her sense of balance. He placed his hand on the small of the back, chuckling as she struggled to right herself. She turned around and glared at him for the mockery, which didn’t deter him in the least. Which was no matter, because she knew how to win at this game.

She walked towards the bedroom slowly, and as she went she slid her arms out of the sleeves of the shirt so she could duck them out of the straps of her tank top, then pulled it over her head without removing the shirt. She tossed it over her shoulder, then leaned down the remove the shorts, kicking them off her heel and across the room. She walked the last few steps to the door frame, then turned to look at him. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t move, she just stood there, leaning against the wood and waiting for his eyes to stop wandering and meet her gaze.

When they did his pupils were wide and dark, shining with light that was both crushing and salvation, pulling her to shore as she drowned in a sea of need. He stood from the couch, walking towards her, a creature of hunger and desire that looked at her as though she were the only thing in the world worth having. He reached her, and there was a pause before he touched her, a moment where she was cherished as a work of art, displayed for his enjoyment, and his alone. Then he placed his palms against her hips, fingers pressing patterns into her flesh. He pulled her into him, bending his head to devour her gasp as she felt him pressing into her stomach. Her knees felt like they wanted to give out, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him with no reservation. His tongue soothed the edges of her lips where his teeth rubbed them raw, and every bit of it was tantalizing and overwhelming. Her patience snapped, and she took a trembling step backwards, leading them towards the bed as she lowered one hand to unfasten his pants. She needed him, more than she needed air, more than she needed her beating heart. She would give both to him, with moans and gasps, with hips that matched her pulse and fingers that twined with his own. She would give him anything so long as he brought her the release that she craved, the relief that would save her from the ache overwhelming every muscle in her body. She would give him anything if it meant he could understand the love in her heart.

By the time her bed bumped against the back of her knees he was stepping out of his pants. They didn’t bother with the shirt, because she didn’t want to waste precious seconds navigating around his sling. He held her with his left arm as he pushed her forward, bracing himself on the bed with his knee and lowering her onto her back. He stayed upright, looking down at her, his gaze flushed with desire. Her hand curled into the blanket, her fingers clenching to give herself something to do so that she wouldn’t implode.

Something else swirled in the black of his eyes, and she saw it surfacing before he even spoke the words. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so beautiful.”

She reached her hand out to grab his, pulling him into her and wrapping her legs around his hips. She kissed him, slow and sweet, willing the shadows out of him and into the void where they belonged. She angled her hips and thrust forward, capturing him until he was melded with her, both gasping at the expansive rush of pleasure from their union. She raked her fingers across his back as she tilted her head, breathing hard into his ear as he pulled out and pressed back in.

“You deserve me. You deserve happiness. You deserve love.” She chanted the truth, and he shook with each revelation, a new roll of his hips driving the phrases out of her lungs. This, too, was a slow pace, but it did not drive her to madness as it had before. She was carried away on a sea of perfection, ripples in his muscles turning to waves across her heart. She needed him to know. She needed him to know what he did to her, how she felt about him. She needed him to take everything she had to give and more, because all of it belonged to him. “I love you, Saeyoung.”

 He moaned and pushed deeper, thrusting in and out with brilliant torpor. It was frantic, and desperate, but with a patience that rivaled that of the continents reaching out to hold one another across the great rifts of the sea. It was heated, and explosive, but with a tenderness that was equal to lilies drifting in a languid stream. He was slow because he was afraid to hurt her by moving any faster, and so each movement they made became precious and vivid. She lived and died again and again, burned and freed with every moan, blessed and cursed with every cry of fervent adoration. Symphonies were written in the pulse of their hearts, poetry was born in the meeting of their swollen lips, and everything else fell away, crumbling into ruins off the trembling of her legs.

They were locked that way for a thousand lifetimes, each one a hundred years, and in all of them, every one, they found each other again. It took ages, eons, but when she finally clenched around him she screamed his name into the heavens, making melodies of the syllables as he followed her down. The whole world felt like it shook as he filled her, everything turning to sand, the sand churning into dust, rolling away along the curve of his spine. She held him beneath the tattered world and she prayed for her love to drive away his shadows. She held him amid the sands of time and she prayed that he found peace in her arms. She held him, riding the rising afterglow that clung to their skin, and she prayed for forever.

Her eyes felt like broken monitors, but bit by bit, pixel by pixel, her vision returned to normal and the star bursts faded from her gaze. His face was buried in her neck, his breath still ragged but coming slower, and she moved her arm so that she could cradle his head. It prompted him to kiss her raw flesh, and she shivered under the touch. He shifted off her, pulling out and rolling so that he could lay by her side, but he kept his arm wrapped tight around her.

“I love you.” His throat was ruined, raspy and harsh, but the words still rang like music. “I feel like…like you’re more than I was supposed to get. I feel like God is going to punish me for having too much.”

“I don’t think God punishes people for love.”

He snorted, a lazy smirk tilting his lips. “The Catholic God kind of does.”

“I’m pretty sure the Catholic God _forgives._ ” She kissed his forehead, his damp hair tickling the tip of her nose.

“Try telling that to a couple of _really_ pissed off nuns.”

She laughed, laying her cheek against him. “That sounds like a story worth hearing.”

“Oh, I am never telling that one.” He chuckled, trailing his fingers along the line where his shirt hung off her chest, but the laugh gradually faded into silence, and then soft words. “I thought I’d lost you, but you came back. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, but you stayed. You make me feel things I didn’t even know were possible. What we did was supposed to be a sin, but it doesn’t feel that way. It also feels like it’s not something I’m supposed to have.”

“Do you want to stop?” she wasn’t trying to accuse him, or make judgments if that were the case. If this interfered with how he kept his faith, she would gladly stand by his side until he was ready again.

“I’ve never been good at the whole’ no sex before marriage’ part. Besides, even if it damned me every time, I’d gladly go to hell for your grace.” It was a joke, but the delivery was off, and so the words rang more true than he had meant them and she could tell.

“You’re not going to hell, Saeyoung.”

“I’m a terrible Catholic.”

“True, but you are a good person.” She pulled him closer, wishing she knew what to say to ease his burden. She had never been very good at words, unless they were put to a tune.

He lifted his head and kissed her cheek, the light back in his eyes as he smiled. “Well, if you say so then it must be true.” He rolled across the bed, tugging at the covers near the top and motioning that she should follow. “Come on, let’s get a blanket on you before you start shivering.”

She tried to sit up, but the muscles in her stomach were so stiff that she fell back down, a whoosh of air leaving her chest as she bounced on the mattress. “Oh…maybe that was too strenuous after all.”

“Then maybe next time I should go slower.” He laughed as she bolted upright, ignoring the stiffness so she could scramble under the covers with him. She tucked herself against his chest, and he wrapped the blankets around them, enveloping them in warmth and bliss. She could already feel sleep tugging at the back of her mind, but she didn’t mind in the least. “Hey, Nicky?”

“Hm?” her eyes were already half closed, but she tried to pull them back open to listen to him.

“I just want you to know that…I think about the future with you a lot, and what I hope we can have in it. I don’t know if you think about that too, but if you do, I’m sorry that I have to ask you to wait for it. I’m sorry that I have to take care of Saeran first.”

She reached up to hold her hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb along his lips. “Never apologize for that. Saeran is part of our family, and part of whatever future we make together.”

“Thank you, my love.”

Then they had no more words to share, because the exhaustion overcame them and sleep cradled them into dreams.

 


	70. The Empty Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how old Vanderwood actually is but I picked an age in here so WHATEVER.

The halls of the hospital had become familiar, which was not something he found pleasing. He craved routine and structure, yet knowing which paths led to the intensive care units and which turnoffs led to the psychiatric wards and which doors led to the physical therapy department…those were pieces of information that he would have rather he had never needed to know. He nodded to the nurses as he passed them, quiet and busy. They no longer questioned his presence or asked if he needed directions. Jumin was a fixture among them now, as much as the carts that rumbled on the tile floors or the trays of supplies carried to and fro in their arms. That was his reward for having nearly everyone he had known become hospitalized at once. He had been dutiful in his visits to each of them, even if seeing them in pain had drained the years of his life away, one brutal minute at a time. At least most of them had finally been released, heading home to spend time with the people they cared about. Saeyoung and Nicolette had been discharged the previous afternoon, Rika had been entrusted to Yoosung’s care three days ago, and Jaehee had been released a week earlier on the condition that she return weekly for physical therapy on her leg. Saeyoung would be returning, as well, for the final surgery to correct the damage to his shoulder. He had plotted both of their appointments into his calendar, although he knew that he was not likely to forget. It made him too anxious, and he found himself unable to let it slip from his mind. 

He turned the corner, making his way to the quiet room at the end of the hall where they had moved him. Saeran had succumbed to enough violent outbursts that most of the nursing staff was afraid of him. They had been forced to hire private professionals that would be willing to risk his wrath to provide him with care. He was still refusing to see Saeyoung, though he had seemed to be tolerating Vanderwood from the last update Jumin had received. He saw the woman now, leaning against the wall outside the door, staring at the floor with a mournful expression on her face. She looked tired. Almost as tired as he felt.

She heard his footsteps as he drew near, and lifted her head to smile. “Well, good morning Mr. Han.” She said his name in a way that made it seem like more of a nickname than a respectful address. A month ago he would have found her tiresome, crash, and irritating. Now he was simply grateful to her for finding levity on days where the rest of them had none.

“Good morning. Is he well?” he peered through the small window on the door. Saeran was inside, laying on the bed that he was strapped to, staring out the window with a placid expression on his face. He was thinner than when they had found him, which was heartbreaking to see. He was so frail, his skin clinging to his bones so that he looked like a poorly assembled replica of Saeyoung. His hair was starting to grow out, and he could see the copper roots showing beneath the shock-white remnants of the dye. He was suffering, given human form and dumped into the laps of people that wanted nothing more than to help him, and the only way he knew how to react to it was with the violence the world had shown him since birth.

If Jumin ever found their mother, who had begun the wretched cycle, he would strangle her with his own bare hands.

“Well, he’s eaten, but he was getting agitated around me again so I’ve resigned myself to sitting out here. That would make this the third day in a row that he turned his anger towards me.” She scrubbed a hand over her face, and he could see the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. “I don’t think I’m doing him any good anymore.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, matching her posture and leaning against the door. “That was what I had feared. We’ve located a therapist willing to take on the challenge. She should be here within the week to evaluate his situation.”

Vanderwood snorted. “ _I_ can evaluate his situation. It’s fucked. Well and thoroughly fucked.”

“I agree, though I might not have put it so…”

“Colorfully?” she grinned, and he wondered how she held on to such humor after sitting with Saeran for weeks on end.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I was going to say uncouth, but colorful would be apt as well.” He cleared his throat, wanting to fidget with his cuff links but resisting the urge. “Listen, there’s something that I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Shoot. I’m all ears for any of you idiot kids.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re only four years older than myself.”

“Old enough to be a whole lot less stupid. So, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you would be interested in a position with my company. My head of security chose to retire early after the events of the past month, and I had thought you would make an exemplary replacement.”

Her jaw fell open and she stood up straighter, looking at him like he had sprouted an additional head. “You want to give me a job?”

“You’re clearly qualified, and what’s more you’re someone that I can trust with both the information about and care of the RFA.” He held her gaze until she dropped her eyes back to the floor, her face falling in an expression he could not name.

“You trust me?”

“Should I not?”

She shrugged. “I did spend a few days hunting your friend with the intent to kill him.”

“No, you didn’t. You were following orders from someone that had held you hostage as much as she had Saeran or Saeyoung.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to meet his eyes again. “What you did for us back in that room proves to me the quality of your character. Saeyoung trusts you, and I don’t feel he has misplaced this trust.”

For a moment she was silent, regarding him with a look that spoke of affection and suspicion all in one. He wondered what must have happened to her to lead her down the path towards the agency. What had her life looked like before becoming a spy? From the way she reacted to kindness, he would have been willing to wager the world had not been any more kind to her than it had the rest of them.

She lifted her hand, moving his from her shoulder and clasping it in her own with a firm shake. “You’re on, but you should know I’m very expensive, so I hope you’re bringing a good offer to the table.” Her exuberance was infectious, her smile genuine in spite of the fact that she was putting on a show for his benefit.

He laughed, for the first time in what had to have been a week, and for that alone he would have payed her half the money in his bank account. “I can assure you, the compensation will be more than equitable.”

“Okay, one other condition. I want to be able to keep looking into what’s going on with the remains of the agency. You can call it a pet project, if you want, but I need to keep tabs on what happens with them. Just because Goldi is getting her ass thrown in jail doesn’t mean she won’t try to pull something from behind bars.” She released his hand, crossing her arms back over her chest and resuming her previous pose.

“Had you not asked then I would have suggested it.”

“Good. I’m not comfortable leaving Twitch yet, but I can start anytime after the therapist arrives, I guess.”

“Of course. I’ll also ask Saeyoung to add you to the RFA group, since you’ll be our security at any future events.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, that’s going to be annoying, isn’t it?”

“Only when Zen is logged in.” They both chuckled, then lapsed into a comfortable silence.

“Hey, you’ve been running around like a madman the past few weeks checking on everybody, but I don’t think I’ve seen you take a break for yourself. Are you doing okay?”

He stood up straighter, adjusting his jacket and smiling. “Tomorrow I’m burying a man who meant more to me than I even know how to describe. ‘Okay’ is not yet on my horizon.”

Her eyes were clouded with worry, and Jumin could understand why Saeyoung had taken to calling her ‘Mom’ as a joke. She certainly looked like a concerned parent as she searched his face for any sign that he was in danger of giving in to the mountains of despair heaped on his shoulders. He had spoken truthfully, however, and she seemed to sense this, so in the end she sighed and shook her head.

“I suppose that’s fair, and about the best any of us can hope for right now. Don’t bottle it up, though. Make sure you’re talking to one of these idiot kids about it, or one of these days your head will explode with all the things you didn’t say.”

He chuckled. “Indeed. Your advice has been noted.” He leaned forward, bowing to her mostly because he knew that it would irritate her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take my leave. I have an appointment with the funeral director shortly, and I’m meeting Saeyoung later this afternoon.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Han. Tell Saeyoung I said ‘shut up’.”

He laughed again, his surprise at her response winning over the shadows once more. “I believe the custom is to tell him you said ‘hello’.”

 “Yeah, but chances are wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, somebody probably needs to tell him to shut up.” She clapped Jumin on the back, grinning broadly. “See ya later, Broody.”

He waved over his shoulder as he walked away. It was strange, but talking to her had seemed to lift his mood an inch out of the depression he was mired in. It was true that he was not okay, and he was beginning to think that he would never again be okay, but perhaps that was fine. If he could grant his friends happiness, security, and whatever else their hearts desired, then perhaps he would not need happiness of his own.

It was an empty idea, but at the moment it granted him peace from the roaring loneliness that threatened to consume him with each passing hour.

***

“You have to eat. Please?” he nudged the plate closer to her, and she turned at the sound, though she didn’t seem to see anything that she was looking at. She did move her hand and pluck a cracker from where it sat, so that was something.

Yoosung sighed, leaning back in his chair as he watched her take a bite. She chewed methodically, her empty eyes looking out of the window, her expression vague and placid. Rika might as well have taken the bullet that V saved her from, because she didn’t seem to be inside her own head anymore. Just a shell, her heart beating and her lungs filling to a pointless rhythm that had no meaning anymore.

He picked his phone back up, returning to his conversation even though he would have rather crawled into a hole and died than continue to talk about the ghost of Rika that was under his care.

**Yoosung: She ate a cracker -_-**

**ZEN: That** **’s progress!**

**Yoosung: barely.**

**Yoosung: and hour of pleading for a cracker is just depressing**

**ZEN: Cheer up, Yoosung. Give it time.**

**ZEN: How did the move go? Did you get all your things okay?**

He looked around the small apartment, still piled with boxes that he hadn’t had a chance to unpack. Since he had been declared Rika’s legal guardian he had been given ownership of all her finances. He didn’t want to touch any of it, but he did use a little to get them an apartment between the hospital and his campus. He needed space to take care of her, and his dorm wouldn’t have been good enough. He’d argued with Jumin for an hour over the right to be her caretaker, so he wanted to make sure he was doing it right. He didn’t touch a penny of her funds beyond what he needed to provide for her, though. He was still holding out hope that one day she would come back to them, and then she would have something to her name to use for starting over.

**Yoosung: Yeah, it** **’s all here.**

**Yoosung: everything** **’s still in boxes, though -_-**

**ZEN: Eh, you had to move pretty quick, so you should take your time to unpack**

**Yoosung: yeah**

He didn’t want to talk about himself anymore, so he decided to change the subject.

**Yoosung: how** **’s Jaehee?**

**ZEN: sleeping. She had physical therapy yesterday, and she** **’s always pretty exhausted the next day.**

**ZEN: She took a few steps without holding my hand, though!**

**Yoosung: Wow! Amazing! I thought it was going to take longer**

**ZEN: She is very stubborn >.> she doesn** **’t want to go back to work with crutches**

**Yoosung: How much longer is she off?**

**ZEN: well, jerkface gave her as long as she needs, but I think she** **’s worried the entire company will fail with her gone**

**Yoosung: lololol sounds like her.**

**ZEN: I** **’m going to make her take a real vacation this winter. This definitely doesn’t count lol**

He looked up and watched as Rika lifted another cracker, every movement absent and strange, like she was living in slow motion while the rest of them stayed the same. Where was she? Was she still somewhere inside that body? Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, still as golden as he had always remembered it. He had never thought that one day he would have to wake up early to brush it out for her, or that he would need to beg her to eat as she looked at him like he wasn’t even there.

He had learned she was a live and gotten to hear a handful of things come out of her mouth, and all of them had been awful. The girl that they had found standing in that room was nothing like the Rika that he had remembered, and he no longer knew which one of them was real. Was she the party planner? Was she the cultist? Was she the empty vessel, chewing on crackers and staring out the window?

He had to have people come and tint the glass. She spent all her time trying to look directly in the sun, and she had hurt her eyes in the process. Any attempts to keep her from the window made her furious and violent, and the doctors had thought it best that they allow her to continue. He didn’t want her to go blind, so he had done everything that he could to make sure she couldn’t hurt herself doing the one thing she wanted to do. They still thought she was going to do irreparable damage in a matter of months, as even filtered the sun was too bright to be looked at head on. He was praying that she improved before then.

He wished that he felt like he could ask for more help, but it didn’t feel right. Everyone still seemed so angry with Rika, even though she was sick. Zen was the only one that ever really asked about her, and the only one that seemed to want to listen when he gave an answer. He couldn’t blame them. She had done awful, awful things. She had nearly gotten Nicky and Saeyoung _killed,_ and she had been so cruel to Saeran he wasn’t even able to see anyone. Vanderwood said he still asked to see Rika from time to time, and that made Yoosung even sadder. Rika always did know how to make people need her, though. She was good with people.

She finished the crackers and picked up an apple slice, nibbling around the peel. He would have to remember to cut that part off next time, so that maybe she would eat more.

His phone pinged, startling him from his thoughts, and he looked down to see a message from Anna waiting for him. He dismissed it, typing into the RFA chatroom. 

**Yoosung: I gotta go, Anna** **’s messaging**

**ZEN: Good, maybe she can cheer you up**

**ZEN: tell her I said hello~**

**Yoosung: sure, thanks Zen**

He pressed the button on his phone to go to the main screen, then switched over to his messages. He smiled as he read her words, her blue gaze staring at him from the little icon next to the text. He had taken the picture on their first date, and it was still one of his favorites. He had others, but in this one she looked the happiest. She didn’t look as worried about him.

**Anna: Hi cutie~**

**Anna: You have lunch yet?**

She was developing a steady routine of worrying about him. She would make sure that he was eating, make sure that he was sleeping. Ever since he had gotten back she checked in with him on the regular. He was still surprised that she hadn’t disappeared after he had explained everything that had happened. It had been difficult, recounting all the parts of the story so that she could understand, but it wasn’t as though he could have hidden it. He had met her for coffee outside of the hospital the day after they had gotten back, and the bruises on his face were enough to let her know bad things had happened. He had expected her to end things with him, to walk away and find somebody whose life wasn’t a mess. He still remembered what it had felt like when she had taken his hand, instead, tears in her eyes as she told him she was so happy that he came back. She was too sweet for him, and he knew it, but it made him that much more desperate to keep her around.

**Yoosung: Hi!!!**

**Yoosung: I was just about to get something to eat, I had to give Rika lunch first.**

**Anna: How is she today?**

**Yoosung: Still the same, for the most part.**

**Anna: I** **’m sorry :(**

**Yoosung: thanks ^^**

**Yoosung: How** **’s your day going?**

**Anna: Good! :3 Although I** **’m ready for the semester to be over.**

**Yoosung: Me too! I need a break.**

**Anna: You, of all people, deserve one <3**

His smile grew wider as he cradled his phone. She was the one bright spot in the darkness all around him, and he had no idea what he had done to be so lucky. It was, of course, all thanks to Nicky. She had done so much for all of them…he hoped that things were finally settled for her. He hoped that tragedy would stop following her and Saeyoung around now. They were the ones that really deserved happiness and a break, and Yoosung was sure Anna would have agreed if she had gotten to meet them. He hoped she would get the chance someday soon, when everything had become a bit more stable. It was still early, but he was already daydreaming of the things they could do together. He really hoped he would get the chance to take her to the next RFA party, and this time he wouldn’t miss a single second of her company.

**Yoosung: I** **’m looking forward to having extra time to spend with you once school ends <3**

**Anna: !!!**

**Anna: Me too ^^**

**Anna: Oh, I have to go, I** **’ve got a** **LOLOL match in a few minutes.**

**Anna: Make sure you eat, okay? And tell Rika I said hello.**

**Yoosung: Have fun! Wipe the floor with them!**

**Anna: I** **’ll defeat my enemies in your honor!!!**

**Anna: I** **’ll save any good items I get for you ;)**

**Anna: Bye <3<3**

He blushed, giddy that she was thinking of him. It was such a small thing, but it made his burdens feel less heavy. He glanced at Rika, and her lips were curved in a subtle smile as she watched the empty sky. It was a clear day, and she was always happier on those. He was glad. He knew that everyone else was right to be mad, and he knew that he should hate Rika for everything that she had done, but he still couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. Especially not after he had found out how sick she had always been. He just felt sorry, full of regrets that he hadn’t known enough to help her. He thought he had been so close with her, but he had never seen her struggling. That made her illness partly his fault.

Illness could be cured, though, couldn’t it? He sighed, standing from the table and walking into the kitchen to try and find something appetizing to eat so he wouldn’t disappoint Anna when she checked in again with him later. He decided to let his despair fall off his shoulders for the day. Today he would choose to hope, and maybe that would be enough. Love hadn’t been able to save Rika, but maybe hope could.

That was his dearest wish.

***

Saeyoung drained the last of the coffee from the delicate cup, setting it back on the table. Jumin leaned back in the chair across from him, his eyes full of shadows that never wavered no matter what he was speaking about. They had been talking about Nicky’s relocation for about half an hour, and they had finally settled the details so that both were satisfied she would be safe staying in Rika’s place. Saeyoung would remove the failsafe as soon as he left Jumin’s, and she could start moving in after that was gone. Jumin wasn’t going to allow her to pay a single cent for rent, which Nicky was not going to like, but Saeyoung would just have to find a way to convince her.

“Vanderwood said to tell you to ‘shut up’, by the way.” The ghost of a smile tilted Jumin’s lips, but it didn’t reach his gaze.

He laughed. “Yeah, she would. I presume she took the job?”

“Yes, and she seemed quite pleased. You are free to add her to the RFA contacts as soon as you are able.”

“Good. How was…how was Saeran?”

Jumin looked like he might ignore the question for a moment before he finally sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Worse. He’s no longer comfortable with Vanderwood in the room, either.”

“I was afraid of that.” He clenched his fist, the one that still worked, wishing there were more that he could do. How could he help someone when his very presence made them so angry they started tearing themselves apart?

“The therapist will help.” Jumin sounded assured, and Saeyoung tried to believe him. He wanted to believe it would be so easy, but part of him knew that the road to his brother’s recovery had only just begun, and it looked to be long and uphill.

“Have you been to see Rika?”

Jumin clenched his jaw, averting his eyes. “Once. In the hospital. Did you go?”

“No. I couldn’t. Not after…” he drew in a slow breath, remembering the look on Nicky’s face as Rika hurtled insults at her over and over again. The fury in her eyes when she had demanded subservience from his brother. “You guys never saw the worst of it. I haven’t been able to forgive her yet for what she did to Nicky and Saeran.”

“Nor I. I saw enough to know that she was not who I had always thought she was.” His words carried sorrow rather than anger, and Saeyoung wondered how close he had been with Rika. He had never quite understood the relationship Jumin had with V or Rika, even before she had disappeared. They had seemed so close, but there was always a wall around Jumin, like they had placed him in a cage so they were always just out of his reach. He had never spoken a word against them, not even after Rika’s false suicide, not even when Yoosung had brought up very valid points about the lack of information. He had defended V, right up until the truth had come to light, and then all he had been able to manage was silence.

“What’s the news on the investigation?” he changed the subject, hoping that it would release some of the tension out of his friend’s shoulders.

Jumin sighed, adjusting the buttons on his sleeves. “The woman running your agency will be in jail for some time with all the evidence they’ve gathered on her. Several of the people working for her were also caught, and are pending trials. They will all likely get lowered sentences for providing information on people that had been higher up than them, but none of them will be free any time soon.”

“And the cult?”

“Disbanded. The surviving cultists were provided care, and most of them have been weaned off the drugs and returned to their families. Many of them had been believed missing or dead. There isn’t a single one of them that is pressing charges, however, so it’s unclear if they will pursue a trial against Rika.” He picked up his coffee cup, taking a sip and mulling over his next words. “I don’t believe any charges will be levied against you, Saeran, Nicky, or Vanderwood, either.”

Saeyoung frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Good. It was pretty reckless calling the cops in the first place, you know. Saeran could have been tossed in jail the second they got there.”

“Then I would have gotten the best damn lawyers in the world to defend him.”

He was so fervent that Saeyoung couldn’t bring himself to be irritated, especially when he had done the right thing, even if it was risky considering their affiliations. “Thanks, Jumin.”

He nodded, but he didn’t smile. “Will you be attending tomorrow?”

“Nicky thinks I should, so I will.” He shrugged, not knowing what else to say on the matter. He felt sorry for V, but he was still so angry with him that he wished he were still alive so that he could scream at him. So much of this was still his fault, so much of it could have been prevented if he had just been there for them the way they had always been there for him. He didn’t want to attend his funeral, he didn’t want to know he was inside the closed casket, didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but Nicky had said she was going whether he went with her or not, and that didn’t seem right. If nothing else, he was going to be there for her, because that was the best that he could do. “Will you?”

Jumin stared at the table, his voice low and quiet. “I wish that I could say that I wouldn’t go. I wish that I hated him enough not to care.” He closed his eyes, his face etched with a hundred different types of pain that he didn’t deserve to go through. “I will be there.”

Whatever Saeyoung’s feelings were towards V, they couldn’t compare to what Jumin must be going through. He wished there were something that he could say to ease his friend’s pain, but he knew there wasn’t fuck all any of them could do. The best that they could hope for was that time would heal their wounds, and that one day they could all move on in their own way. Saeyoung had Nicky to help him with this, and he was so blessed in that regard, but Jumin didn’t have anyone else to lean on. He only hoped he wouldn’t end up toppling over and falling into that darkness where the rest of them couldn’t follow.

He stood, stretching as he lifted himself out of the chair. “Well, I should get going. I’m helping Nicky pack, since she’s been too busy freaking out about school to be much use.”

“Is she still worried over her return?” Jumin stood as well, walking with him towards the door.

“ _I_ _’m_ still worried for her going back to that place, so I’m sure it’s much worse for her.” He would have rather she never go back to a place that had allowed her to be assaulted by one professor and tortured by another, but she was obstinate in her decision. Music was her dream, and this was the best school in the country. It bothered him, and he would be anxious every time she left for classes, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to support her in every way he knew how. His space princess deserved to achieve all her dreams, and he would beat the living hell out of anything that stood in her way.

Jumin shook his head. “Let me know if there is anything she needs. I know she won’t _let_ me help, but perhaps she wouldn’t need to know it came from me.”

“Ha! If I think of anything I’ll let you know. She does need a new violin, though. Maybe you could just happen to buy her one for Christmas.” Saeyoung winked at him, and he finally got a full smile out of the dour man. “You should really hear her play, by the way. I thought nothing could beat her singing, but violin really is her strong suit.”

“I would like that. Since meeting her I’ve found that listening to music is far less frivolous than I once thought. Very relaxing, particularly when heard live.”

Saeyoung snorted out a laugh. “You are such a weirdo.”

“So says the pot to the kettle.” Jumin held out his hand, and they shook on their parting shots.

“Hey, you know that we’re both around if you need us, right? To talk, or whatever? She’s worried about you.”

“Tell her not to worry, I’m paying someone to talk to me about it.” Jumin let go of his hand, smirking, and Saeyoung know that was all he was going to get out of him today.

“Will do, mista trust fund. See you tomorrow.” He gave him a salute before walking down the hall, strangely empty now that Jumin had lowered security to something more normal. Jumin shut the door as he made it to the elevator, and Saeyoung hurried in, eager to get back. He smiled to himself, unable to help it. He still wasn’t used to the idea that he had someone to get back to, and it made his heart skip a beat every time. Everything else seemed to be falling apart around him still, but he couldn’t bring himself to despair as much as he might have before. He had Nicky, and if that was true there was always hope.

They’d all pull through it together because of her, he would just have to be patient until that day came.


	71. Love was for the Artists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a funeral.

They draped themselves in the color of death to attend its victory party.

She wore a short black dress, with thick black leggings, the black on her shoes polished to a fine sheen. She helped Saeyoung don the black shirt that he tucked into his black pants, the soft fabric rustling as her fingers held it in place. She fastened the buttons with fingers that were steady despite the shaking in her heart, the black lacquered pieces sliding into their homes like rows of soldiers standing guard on the tender soul held within. His jacket was black, draped over the shoulder of his injured arm, the blue of the sling strange with the rest of the ensemble.

He wore a white tie, and she donned a white flower in her hair. She had told him it was out of remembrance for the times when he had been what they needed, but the lily tucked next to her ear truly meant forgiveness. She might have been the only one who could hold such a sentiment, and she wanted to grant it to him as they laid him to rest.

There was no procession, nor was there a ceremony in a church. They had opted to say their goodbyes by the graveside, because no one could stomach the eyes of god watching their confusion over his loss. He had committed crimes out of desperate love, and they had not stopped resenting him enough to challenge faith in his honor. She could no more ask Saeyoung or Jumin to pray in for his wayward soul than she could bring herself to ask Heaven to open its doors. She was not a religious person, but V had been, and she wished that she knew how to speak on his behalf. She had seen the sorrow scarring his heart, making him blind to what he had done until his heartbeat had slowed enough to illuminate the destruction. She could could not ask them to carry that resolve in their hearts, but she could forgive him in place of the rest of them. She could try to ask for his peace despite all he had wrought.

They arrived at the cemetery, and the bars on the iron gates had been painted black. They were on time, and so the others had pulled in just after them. The parking lot was empty, save for the cars that carried the RFA. This service was for them, and for him, and those that had loved his photographs could hold their own farewells at another time. They all wore black under the heavy grey sky. The clouds dressed the heavens for tears, and they themselves donned the color of sorrow. She would forgive V, and she would cry for him, as well. She would cry in their stead if the others could not.

Jumin strolled across the parking lot to them as they got out of the car, his eyes full of black. She shut the door and held open her arms, and he needed no further invitation to accept her support. They hugged, and he did not speak a word of greeting.

“I’m so sorry, Jumin.” She could feel the tears building, but she did not let them fall. Not yet. They were for the graveside, to water the flowers so that they might bloom one day when the resentment no longer salted the soil.

“You have no reason to grieve for him. I do not expect you to be sorry.” He released her, his hands on her shoulders as Saeyoung made his way to stand by her side. “You did not have to be here today.”

“Of course I came. I’m here for all of you. Even him. I forgave him, so I grieve for him.” She allowed Saeyoung to pull her against him, his arm wrapping around her waist as he pressed a kiss against her temple. The petals of the flowers rustled where they brushed his face. The whisper of absolution, granted far too late to have done anyone any good.

The door to a car across the lot slammed shut, and she saw Yoosung leading Rika out into the chilling air. He looked at them, but made no move to approach, and she could see shame in his gaze. She realized that he felt bad for bringing her, knowing that none of them could bear to look at her since V’s death. It had been the right thing to do, though. Rika should be there, she should get to say her goodbyes. His loss had been her undoing, and that was just as sad as his mistakes nearly tearing them all apart. It would have been V’s dearest wish to see her smile as they sent him off, and Nicky could not begrudge him that gift. There were stories between the pair that would now never be told, but maybe Rika could imagine them while she was lost in her head.

She leaned over and kissed Saeyoung on the cheek before making her way across the parking lot. Yoosung stood up straighter, looking as though he was preparing for a fight, but when she reached him she only pulled him into a hug. His breath hitched, and she felt his sob rather than heard it as he buried his face in her shoulder.

“You’re not mad at me?”

She let him go, then flicked the tip of his nose. “Of course not, why would I be?”

He glanced at Rika, his gaze conflicted and pulled in every direction it could have possibly been. “I couldn’t…I didn’t want to come, but I couldn’t let her miss it. If she ever gets better, it would make her so sad…”

She gripped his shoulder, shaking him gently. “You did a good job, Yoosung. You’re doing a good job taking care of her.”

He cried then, although it wasn’t for V. He cried for the weight of the responsibility that he thought needed to belong to him alone. She pulled him into another hug, Rika ignoring them to stare at the sky. She was frowning as she gazed at the clouds, searching for the hidden sun. Perhaps she saw his face when her eyes found the light. Nicky hoped so.

She let out a small yelp of surprise as someone threw their arms around her from behind, swallowing both herself and Yoosung in a massive hug.

“Hey beautiful, did you miss me?” Zen mumbled the words into the back of her head. She didn’t quite have the temerity to laugh, but she did smile and roll her eyes.

“Get off me, you’re going to get glitter all over my dress.”

He let go, taking a step back to allow her to release Yoosung. “I’m not wearing any glitter.”

“You’re like a living pile of glitter.” She grinned at him, and when she saw the sadness behind his eyes she held out her arms to him too, letting him sweep her into a hug that spun them around in a circle.

“Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to, you know.” He let her go, tugging on the petals of her flower before stepping back.

“I wanted to.” She turned to see Jaehee standing behind him, wobbling on her crutches, and she rushed over to give her a hug as well. “How’s the leg?”

“Irritating, but I’ll manage. I always do.”

Saeyoung and Jumin joined them, and for a moment they stood saying nothing. They were all dressed for mourning, black layered on black layered on black, even if some of them weren’t sure how to do that in their own hearts yet. She wanted to hold them all, to keep them close and promise them that if it was too hard she could do it for them. She could mourn, she could bear their shadows on top of her own. She could forgive V and she could forgive Rika. They didn’t need to. They didn’t need to worry themselves with the complexity of betrayal and loss. They didn’t need to hang their heads and wonder if they were wrong for remembering their friend when in the end he had been more like an enemy. She would hold those struggles on their behalf. She would carry them in her heart until they were ready to let them go. She wished that she could tell them that.

A breath of wind stirred around them, and she felt the first drop of rain land against the side of her cheek. The sky was weeping, after all.

“We should go. I think the priest is ready to begin.” Jumin was staring at the plot just on the crest of the hill, where a man in robes stood clutching a bible to his chest. Jumin headed over first, and they each followed suit, marching like a grim brush stroke across the canvas of green grass below their feet. The rain continued, working its way into her hair and misting on the edge of the flower. She would weep, soon, too.

They gathered around in a loose circle, and the priest began his sermon. She didn’t listen to the words. She stared at the picture frame placed on top of the coffin, V’s smiling face centered in a halo of soft blue flowers. He looked so happy, and it made her mourn more than just his loss. She mourned the loss of what could have been, had things been different. How much would the world have needed to grant that smile to him for a lifetime? How many things would have had to change to sway the threads of fate towards that reality? She had only known the man after he had been swallowed by folly and sorrow. She never saw the smile in the picture, so it was as abstract as any painting in a museum. Lovely, and no longer real.

The priest finished, and the attendants waiting started lowering the casket into the ground. There was weeping among them, after all. Saeyoung’s cheeks glittered with more than rain, and Jumin had bowed his head to hide his feelings. She wrapped an arm around Saeyoung’s waist to pull him close, and she put her other arm around Jumin’s elbow, giving him something to hold on to. The fingers of his other hand found hers, covering them where they rested, and she felt them shaking beneath his gloves.

She watched V’s descent, and she held her loved ones, and she forgave him. She forgave him for the melancholy that took hold in his heart. She forgave him for loving Rika no matter how far she fell. She forgave him for his sins and his weakness, and for every shortcoming in between. She plucked the flower from her hair and tossed it into the gaping earth, and then she wept and let go of her resentment, hoping that there were better things for him in death than there had ever been in life.

The others drifted off, saying their goodbyes in hushed voices, bowing out of the moment when it became too great. She remained with Jumin and Saeyoung long after, letting the tears of the heavens soak into her dress. Jumin remained the longest, but in the end it was overwhelming to him, as well, and he had begged their pardon before leaving the cemetery on foot. She told him to call her if he needed anything, but she wasn’t sure if he heard her.

“I don’t understand how you could say that you forgave him.” Saeyoung spoke slowly, each word an effort as he stared at the last resting place of a fallen man. “Not after everything he did.”

“What if it had been me?”

He looked at her, his eyes wide. “What?”

“You saw what happened to me when the darkness got to be too much. What if the darkness inside me had grown, until it was out of control? What if I had become what Rika became?”

More tears welled out of his eyes as he looked at the grave, still open so that the picture of V was turned towards the sky. He could have protested, insisted that she could have never become something so cruel. She knew that he was thinking it by the way he held her tighter, by the way the tears rolled over his clenched jaw and fell to mingle with the rain in the mud. That had not been the point, however, and he knew that too.

“I don’t know if I would have found a different way…” he turned his eyes to her, full of grief and love in equal measure, and a flicker of understanding that made her feel as though she were not carrying the burden of V’s forgiveness on her own any longer. “But I know that if what happened to Rika had happened to you, I wouldn’t have given up on you either.”

He kissed her, and she let him breathe his sorrow into her lungs.

It would be a long time, but eventually they could all let go of what had happened and remember the man that he was, not the man that destruction had driven him to become. She hoped that gave him comfort, wherever he had gone. She hoped that he knew they still cared, even through the anger and pain, even through the blame that still lurked in their gazes. They had loved him, and his deceit had shaken that, but not broken it. She hoped that he knew that, and that it brought him the rest that he deserved.

_Rest in peace, V._

***

He shrugged his shoulders, letting his scarf rise around his ears and lessen the cold causing them to go numb. It was freezing, but Jumin couldn’t bring himself to go home. He felt lost. Not as though he no longer knew where he was, but lost in a sense that he had been misplaced by someone who had once held him, and now he was left alone in the darkness.

His heart had always been split in two, but he had never once faced that reality. He had given half of it to V, then Rika had arrived and stolen the other. There was never a point in his life when this had not been confusing. V was the love of his life that had never quite unfolded into anything more than deep friendship. Then Rika had come, and he had decided that there was not enough room in his heart for two different people, so he had walled them off. He had wrapped bars and chains around every flutter of his pulse until he could no longer discern joy from pain. Love was for the artists, and Jumin was no artist. Better that he shutter things that he didn’t understand away, like everything else, clinging to the gleaming moments that came to pass between him with either of them or both of them, the few shining moments where it almost felt like he wasn’t shut outside and watching happiness bloom on the other side of a window.

His scarf fell from around his ear as his feet clicked across the concrete below, the rumble of cars gritty as they trundled across the roadways around him, all of which were expected parts of the background noise that numbed his senses. He paused when something else intruded in the abstract mélange which was not at all something he would anticipate stumbling into on a frigid day near downtown. It was music…a beautiful piano piece, the keys marking poetry in the air with each new note. He closed his eyes, letting the sad melody carry him away. It was the perfect song to match the weather, to speak to his mood. The minor chords were like the grey skies threatening to churn rain into winter snow, the crescendos cresting in the same way that warm breath rolled into steam as it toiled in the air. It was heartbreaking, and moving, and it filled him with a sense of awe.

He turned, looking for the source, and he spotted an open window on the apartment building in front of him. It was strange that it would be ajar, considering the temperature outside, but it stood wide nonetheless, pale blue curtains fluttering in the breeze as the music drifted past them. Inside he could see a man at a piano, his face suffused with concentration, carried away with his craft as though he was as much a part of the song as the song was part of the winter day. He had short hair the color of whiskey held in front of firelight that hung across his eyes. Not red, but brown with hints of amber, flickers of light dancing within as it moved whenever he moved. He seemed to flow with the music, every flex of his shoulders and body trapped in a dance while his fingers were busy with the keys. It was mesmerizing to see him at work, to see him create such sorrow with simple notes so as to fill the air and make Jumin stop in wonder.

For a moment, for one shining moment while the song filled him, Jumin forgot about V. He forgot about the loamy soil tumbling down to dust the edge of the coffin, he forgot about the dampness of the rain as Nicolette held his shaking arm. He forgot about the time he had laughed so hard with V that they’d fallen into each other, laying on the ground until they had been able to breathe again. He forgot about Rika, and her spiteful words, her hands across his face in ringing hatred. He forgot about the girl that she had been, who had made him feel warm whenever her gaze turned his way. He forgot about all of it, letting it fall to the wayside as he rode the waves of a winter day, given beat and soul at the touch of black and white keys.

The song stopped, and the piano player looked up, glancing out his window. Jumin shoved his hands in his pockets, resuming his march along the cold streets. He would have liked to hear another song, but alas, this was not a performance hall, and he had intruded enough on this musician. He should return home, and let the artists commune with the love in the world in peace.

Love was for the artists, and Jumin was no artist. 


	72. I Hope it Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which returning to school does not go smoothly.

She hovered outside the door, fidgeting with the frayed edge of her text book. It was just shy of the time when class was slated to begin, but she couldn’t bring herself to enter yet. She toyed with the strap on the brace around her wrist, pulling at the velcro and listening to the sound it made as it snapped back in place. They had switched her out of the cast, and given her permission to resume violin, although she still couldn’t play worth a damn. Saeyoung had pretended to be impressed by her practice the other night, but her bones had ached the entire time, and she hadn’t been able to feel the music through her fingers they way she normally would. She had blamed it on the injury, but it could have also been stress for her return. Or maybe she had lost what little talent she had possessed in the first place, as though it had been in the exact spot where the bullet had torn into her.

Most of her classes that day had gone by uneventful. She had a very extensive pile of homework, but her professors had so far been understanding. Some of them probably more so than they needed to be, considering the circumstances of her absence. Still, this was the class that she had dreaded the most. It was the third-year music theory class, which in and of itself was not daunting to her. What scared her was that she knew the people that would be in it, and she didn’t want to face them for as long as she lived, much less on a weekly basis.

She had gone through these motions once before. The first time that she had returned after the assault had been like this. Terror keeping her frozen in doorways, positive that she would be an outcast for telling the truth. She had been so relieved when her friends had welcomed her back and been supportive. She had never dreamed that it had all been an act, until she had walked into a recital to see the night that haunted her printed onto pictures and spread across the room. Her greatest fear was that it would happen again, that she would enter and have too look at sheet of paper reliving the moment that had robbed her of her confidence in ever being safe again.

She glanced at the clock, and saw that it was a minute until the scheduled time, so she took a deep breath and walked into the room. She could feel everyone turning to look at her immediately, some with bored curiosity, others with hostile glares. The people that used to be her friends all sat on one side of the room, Liara in the front of the pack sneering at her. Nicky clutched her books closer, ducking her head and walking to the back, climbing the stairs to take a seat in the last row. She could feel their eyes on her every movement, and it made her skin crawl.

She had a few close friends that she had made when she started at this school. They had taken every music theory class together from the first semester, and Nicky had always thought they were her sisters in musical crime, there for each other through thick and thin. Liara had always been the strongest personality among them, so they had followed her lead in most things. Apparently that lead had included turning the school against Nicky because she had the gall to get everyone’s favorite vocal professor thrown in jail. Liara was an opera singer, so she had been particularly close with him. Closer than she had ever been with Nicky, considering whose side she had chosen in the end.

She inhaled slowly, ignoring the looks and the whispers as she took her seat. The professor walked in moments later, launching into the lecture without missing a beat, and she struggled to pay attention. She still felt as though she was being watched, and she was shrinking under the scrutiny. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she fished it out to peek at the screen. She didn’t unlock it, but she didn’t need to in order to receive the message, and as she read the words some of her trepidation started to disappear.

**707: Hope you** **’re having a good day, space princess. Remember that I love you. <3**

Before, when she had fears and she had let her anxiety crush her, she had been alone. The people at school were the only people she had, and she had clung to them so desperately because she had been terrified of the loneliness that would follow if she lost them. Now, though, her life was full. Full of people that cared about her as much as she cared about them. Full of love that had survived just about everything that could be thrown at it. Let the other girls glare and pout. Let them mutter about the punishments they received for their stunt. Nicky didn’t need to care anymore, because she had someone that loved her even after finding everything out about her. She didn’t need to be afraid of the truth anymore.

She set her phone on the edge of her desk and refocused her energy, listening to the lecture with attentive interest. She could understand most of it, despite how far behind she was, and she took intricate notes full of things she would need to look up later to expand on the concepts. It was a bit more in depth than she was used to, but she wanted to make sure she didn’t fall any further behind.

Class ended, and she started putting away her things. She had stopped paying attention to Liara and her group, which was why she didn’t notice when they got up and made their way through the seats towards her own.

“What happened to your arm?”

Nicky looked up as Liara gave her a sheepish smile, twirling a strand of silky black hair around her finger.

“Oh, um…just…an accident.” She shrugged, knowing that she couldn’t have told her the truth even if she had wanted to. Which she very much didn’t.

Liara grinned, and Nicky knew it had been a trap from the glint in her eyes. “Did you finally piss of the wrong person and get your ass beat?” Liara laughed, and it reminded Nicky of Rika so much that she shivered. “Too stupid to know when to stop, right? Is that how it happened?”

Another girl with short brown hair wrapped her arm around Liara’s shoulder, twin grins on their faces. “No, she’s not stupid. She was clever enough to get two teachers fired and half our class put on academic probation. If she got beat up for anything it was for being a stone-cold bitch to the wrong person.” Nicky realized that she recognized her, one of her quieter friends from the previous semester.

“Jen?” she blinked at her, unsure of what to make of the change in the once sweet and gentle girl. Jen hadn’t been part of the group that had harassed her, so she wasn’t sure where her animosity was coming from. They had barely spoken in months, since they had only had the one class together and then went their separate ways.

Jen tipped her head back and laughed. “Oh my god, look at her face. Maybe you are stupid.”

“I don’t think she knows.” Liara smirked, quirking her eyebrow up.

“Hey Nicky, wanna know a secret?” Jen leaned forward, and Nicky leaned back in her seat away from her automatically. “Did you know that Mrs. Capalli is my aunt?” Nicky swallowed, unable to answer as her heart hammered against her chest. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” Jen stood up straight, Liara wrapping an arm around her before planting a kiss on her cheek. There was so much malice rolling off them that it made Nicky’s stomach churn, and she was worried that she might be sick. Again. It was all happening again.

Liara looked down at Nicky’s wrist, then made sure to meet her gaze. “I hope it hurt.” The two girls turned and walked away from her, leaving her sitting in the desk and clutching her things in an empty room.  She stood, fighting her breakdown as she rushed out of the door, passing through halls that she could hardly see over the blur in her vision. She raced into a practice room, slamming it shut behind her, and she didn’t even make it to the chair. She sank to her knees, sobs working their way out of her throat as her eyes leaked burning trails of tears. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and she found herself gasping for air, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat made of pain and shame. It wasn’t over. It would never be over. They would follow her for the rest of her life and keep finding ways to hurt her, new ways to get under her skin with salt and ire that ate away her nerves.

She just wanted to study music, it was all she had ever wanted to do, but it was just so hard to keep going. Maybe she didn’t have any right to her dreams. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

***

He sent Nicky the message and then slipped his phone in his pocket, standing outside the door. He had just finished talking to the therapist, and she had told him that his absence wasn’t doing Saeran any good. He may react violently or angrily, but he also needed consistency, and he needed to know that Saeyoung wasn’t planning on disappearing any time soon.

Which brought him to this moment, hovering outside the door, afraid of what he would find inside. Every time he saw the pain and anguish in his brother’s face he felt like it drained years of his life away. His palms were covered in sweat as he brought his hand up to cover the handle, but he didn’t turn it yet. He couldn’t. He was as scared to face Saeran’s hate as much as he had always been of their mother’s. What a cruel, awful twist of fate it was to feel that way. That was what his brother had been reduced to. A copy of the one thing that he had hated most when they were growing up. A creature of violence, a creature of rage. Incapable of seeing the good people around them and letting them in.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what Saeran did. Saeyoung needed to stop hiding from him and face the consequences for his mistakes. His little brother needed him. He would do whatever it took to make himself strong enough to pull them both through this. He turned the handle on the door and entered the room.

Saeran was looking out the window, just as he always had. His hair was longer, and hung over his eyes. He could see the red beneath the moonlight dye, and his heart cracked a little further. It reminded him of the little boy he used to be, the one that had always been just as broken. How was he supposed to help repair twenty-two years of damage?

“Hello, Saeran.” His voice sounded both small and too loud in the quiet room, and he flinched from it. His brother didn’t react at all, his eyes glued to the window.

Saeyoung looked around, taking another step into the room. Saeran made no move to protest, so he made his way over to the chair against the wall. Vanderwood had been parked in the same seat until only a few days ago, and he wondered if Saeran had ignored her like this, as well. He didn’t try talking again, because he was afraid it would break whatever spell was keeping Saeran calm, so he sat in the chair, just watching him.

He was thinner. They had told him that it was difficult to get him to eat, and that he would still get occasional bouts of nausea from the withdrawals. He could have symptoms for up to four months, because of the length of time he had been on the concoction of poison Rika had given him, and the types of drugs that had been swimming in his system. He still didn’t have any color to his cheeks, and there were still dark circles under his eyes. Did he sleep? Did he ever dream of another life? One where everything had been different, and they could have started again.

Sometimes when Saeyoung slept he dreamed of a place world where their mother had been loving and kind, and their father had stopped by to visit. They would have grown up in a house full of laughter and love, with memories of sharing holidays and special occasions together. He always imagined that he would have met Nicky when they both went to college, and they would have fallen in love without all the suffering that they had gone through. He could have taken her on normal dates, and after a while brought her home to meet his family. There were no bullet wounds in that world, or lies and deceit. No secret agencies, or sexual assaults, or cults. None of them would have been forced to endure the traumas that had dogged their heels in this world. Sometimes when he had that dream it was difficult to wake up in the morning, and face the reality of their situation.

Nicky made it worth it, and he reminded himself that there were still happy endings possible for all of them, if they could just climb over the obstacles standing in their way.

He sat there in the chair for close to an our, neither of them saying anything. Saeran didn’t even look at him, his eyes glued to the window. If Saeyoung hadn’t seen him blink he would have been afraid he was looking at a corpse, but his gaze would waver every now and again, his chest still rising and falling, so he was very much alive.

His phone rang, and the pair of them jumped, which was the biggest reaction he had gotten out of him. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, Nicky’s face winking at him in her new profile picture. He tapped the button to answer, holding it up to his ear.

“Hey, I’m with Saeran right now, can I call you back in a little bit?” he kept his voice low, afraid that the sound would trigger more aggression. It had been tedious, and sad, but this visit had also been peaceful, and that was an improvement he wanted to hold on to.

“Oh, sorry.” He could tell she was crying before she finished the words, and he heard a loud sniffle from the other end. “I’ll let you go.”

“Hey!” he spoke louder than he meant to, so he half turned, cupping his hand around the receiver. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“If you’re with Saeran I can c-call l-later.” She was sobbing and trying to hide it now, and he furrowed his brow.

“Love, what happened? Tell me.”

“It’s just never over. The girls, the ones that used to be my friends, they still hate me. They said they hoped it hurt when my wrist was broken. They’re never going to leave me alone.”

His chest ached with how badly he wished he could reach through the phone and hold her. “Shh, baby, calm down. Breathe with me, okay? Deep breath in.” He inhaled, and he heard her do the same on the other end with minimal stuttering. “Breathe out.” She matched it, and he heard her sobs fade into the background. “Just give me a little bit, and I’ll be there to come get you, okay?”

“No!” she sniffed, and he could tell she was wiping her eyes. “No, you’re with Saeran, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re in tears, I’m not just going to let you -”

“Really, it’s okay.” Her voice was steadier, which made her statement almost convincing. “I think I just needed to hear your voice for a minute.”

He smiled, filling with pride that such a small thing could help her. “It’s always yours. Are you sure you don’t want me to head down there? I can sort of drive now, when I take off the sling.”

She sighed. “You weren’t supposed to be practicing that.”

“Oops.” He chuckled because he could hear her rolling her eyes.

“No, I’ll be fine. I can head back on the bus. I’ll probably hop in the chatroom and whine about everything, so that should be distracting enough until I get home.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Alright, but if you change your mind you just need to call me, okay? We’ll talk more when we get back.”

“Okay. I love you, Saeyoung. If…if you can, tell Saeran I said hello.”

“Love you too, Nicky. Talk to you later.”

They hung up at the same time, and he slid the phone back into his pocket. Saeran didn’t seem to have changed at all during their conversation, so he sighed and sat back into the chair, watching his brother watch the sky.

“Did you hurt her, too?” he didn’t turn to look at him, and his words were flat and empty, but Saeran had finally spoken.

Saeyoung adjusted his glasses, trying to talk slowly. “No, it was the girls at her school.”

“Oh.” There was no inflection to his voice at all, other than a rasp coming from deep in his throat. “You’ll hurt her eventually.”

“I have before.” The admission tumbled out before he knew what it was doing, but he found that he didn’t want to take it back. It was true. He had hurt her in awful, terrible ways. Ways that he could never take back. Pretending that it had not happened wouldn’t help anyone. Pretending that he was a saint was not going to help his brother any more than disappearing would.

“She deserved it for believing you cared.”

“I _do_ care. I care about you, too.”

Saeran turned to him now, and the hatred in his gaze was tidal. “Liar.”

“Saeran, what Rika told you -”

“ _Don_ _’t.”_ His teeth clicked around the word, snapping it out like a bark with a ravenous bite. _“_ Don’t speak her name.”

He stood out of the chair, taking a step towards the bed. Flashes of Rika spun through his head, of her tormenting Nicky, of her cruelty as she had crushed his brother’s heart. “She was the one who lied to you. To both of us!”

“She saved me. You left me. I know who I choose to believe.” Saeran shrugged, uncaring, and he started to turn back towards the window. Saeyoung couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the quiet, he couldn’t stand the distance. He took another step towards the bed.

“Saeran, she didn’t save you, she abused you.”

“Shut up! Stop talking!” his eyes went wide and wild, losing their focus as they darted around the room. “Stop screaming! I can’t stand all the screaming!”

“I…I’m not -” he took a step back, and Saeran curled forward, reaching up to clamp his hands over his ears as well as he could with the restraints around his wrists.

“Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop.” He chanted it, relentlessly, rocking back and forth and making the bed bang against the wall.

He choked back his tears as he looked at his brother, curled in a ball and shuddering. “Okay. I’ll go. I’ll…I’ll be back soon, okay. I love you, Saeran.”

He walked out the door, letting it click shut behind him. He leaned his back against the wall, sliding to the floor as he put his hands on his head, fingers tearing at his hair. Why couldn’t he get through to him? Why had everything been done to Saeran? If he could have shouldered half of the torture, half of the pain, then he would have. He would have gladly taken every bit of it from his brother and held it for his own. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that people had used him as a punching bag and he still tried to hold them close. It wasn’t fair that Rika had used him for everything he was worth, and all he did was ask to be put back in her care or defend her actions.

He took a deep breath, pulling himself together, then he pulled his phone back out, opening the RFA app. He was useless to Saeran right now, and he would have to wait to try again another time. There was no point in sitting around pouting about it. If he couldn’t help his brother, then he could damn well make sure his girlfriend was doing okay.

****

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**Nicolette: So now she hates me just as much as the rest of them.**

**Nicolette: I didn** **’t even know they were related.**

**Jumin: It is despicable regardless.**

**Yoosung: Hiya Saeyoung!**

**ZEN: Yo**

**707: ~Hi~**

**707: Feeling better, love?**

**Jumin: So you** **’ve heard.**

**707: Ya, first.**

**ZEN: It** **’s not a contest -_-**

**Nicolette: I** **’m a bit better, yes.**

**Nicolette: I still hate the bus, though. I swear this driver has it out for me.**

**Jaehee: Now you** **’ve done it**

**Jumin: We can provide a car for you**

**Nicolette: no**

**707: You should just drive one of mine**

**Nicolette: No**

**Jumin: I wouldn** **’t have to purchase one. I could loan you a company car.**

**Nicolette: NO**

**ZEN: I could always take you to school on my bike**

**Jumin: NO**

**707: NO**

**Nicolette: NO!**

**Nicolette: You guys have all already done more than enough for me.**

**Nicolette: Geez, can** **’t a girl complain about the bus for a minute?**

**Yoosung: lolol apparently not**

**ZEN: My bike is perfectly safe, I** **’ll have you know**

**Nicolette: Didn** **’t you tell me you crashed and almost died once?**

**ZEN: uh** **…no?**

**Yoosung: lol pants on fire**

**Jaehee: Nicky, what are you going to do about the girls at school?**

**Nicolette: Suffer quietly**

**707: Um, no**

**707: I will follow you to all your classes and look threatening**

**ZEN: Oh, how scary. Are you going to type at them menacingly?**

**707: You know, I was a spy for years, actor boy**

**Jumin: I could send security**

**707: Good idea.**

**707: Got any burly ones?**

**Yoosung: lol just send Vanderwood, she** **’s terrifying when she gets mad**

**707: Wait, has she logged in yet?**

**ZEN: Once, and I** **’m pretty sure she’s gonna murder you**

**707: lolololol**

**Jaehee: Haven** **’t you put her through enough?**

**707: Never.**

**Nicolette: What did you do?**

**707: NOBODY TELL HER.**

**707: It** **’s a surprise.**

**Nicolette: lol for me or her?**

**707: Well, since she already knows, just for you ^_^**

**Nicolette: alright then, I** **’ll be patient**

**Nicolette: how is Saeran?**

**707: Well, it was okay until you called, and then we both sort of lost it.**

**Nicolette: I** **’M SO SORRY**

**707: Not your fault, space princess.**

**707: Besides, when I say okay**

**707: what I mean was he completely ignored me**

**Yoosung: But he let you in the room this time?**

**707: For a bit.**

**ZEN: That** **’s great!!**

**Jumin: That is a big improvement.**

**707: Yeah, but it didn** **’t really feel like it.**

**Nicolette: Give him time. We** **’ll get there. <3**

**Yoosung: Even little steps are a good sign, though.**

**ZEN: Yes! You have to stay positive.**

**ZEN: Like me and Jaehee.**

**ZEN: Tonight we** **’re going out to celebrate the two steps she took by herself today.**

**Jaehee: -_- you** **’re the one insisting we go out**

**Jumin: Overly dramatic, as usual.**

**ZEN: Shut up, jerk.**

**ZEN: It** **’s not dramatic to celebrate my girlfriend’s accomplishments**

**Jumin: She has a name, you know. She is more than just** **“your girlfriend”.**

**ZEN: OMG**

**ZEN: DID YOU JUST USE MY OWN WORDS**

**ZEN: AGAINST ME?**

**707: Hm. Doesn** **’t sound like Zen’s words.**

**Nicolette: Far too feminist.**

**Yoosung: lololol**

**Yoosung: he did say them, I remember**

**Jaehee: If you buy him a fedora, please let me choose the color**

**Nicolette: Done.**

**ZEN: JAEHEE!**

**Jaehee: It** **’s only so I can pick a flattering tone**

**ZEN: T_T**

**ZEN: Attacked on all sides just because I want to take you out**

**Jaehee: For what it** **’s worth, I’m very excited**

**Yoosung: awwwwwwwwwww**

**Jumin: Hopefully someplace nice**

**ZEN: OF COURSE**

**Jaehee: I** **’m not picky**

**Jumin: Perhaps you should be**

**Nicolette: oh stop bickering**

He smiled down at the phone, knowing that Nicky was feeling better if she was starting to lecture Jumin and Zen. He laid his head back against the wall, staring at nothing as he tried to summon the strength to stand. He reminded himself that there was a beautiful girl that would be waiting for him when he returned to the apartment, and that made the struggle less strenuous. He rose, shaking off his disappointment and stress. He couldn’t sink into despair about it. Yes, it was painful, and yes, it felt like there was no end. He couldn’t let himself lose hope, though. As soon as he could, he would just have to try again, and then again after that, and then as many times as it took to get his brother back to health. He was strong enough to commit to it now, because there were other people behind him, waiting to back him up.

He looked at Saeran one last time through the window, resting peacefully now that no one was there to disturb him.

_I_ _’m not leaving this time, little brother._  


	73. So Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yoosung has a pretty good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have cavities after writing this chapter.

He rapped his knuckles against the door, looking around the quiet hallway with unease. The building seemed emptier than he had thought it would, like Nicky was the only person staying there. It was kind of creepy, even though every inch of the place was spotless and innocent, no sign of anything that could be dangerous in the least. Of course, it had probably looked that way when there had been a bomb planted in the walls, so he supposed that looks could be deceiving. 

He heard the latch open, then the door swung wide, and Nicky was standing there in a long sweater and a short skirt, smiling brightly. “Hey Yoosung!” She stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter, and he turned and grabbed Rika’s elbow to guide her into the room. She was staring at her feet as she shuffled across the carpet, and he tried not to frown about it. She was either looking at her feet or staring at the sun, no mood to speak of about either. The only time she ever changed was when he tried to get her to do something else, and then she would push back and fight. He wasn’t sure which thing he hated more.

“Thanks for having us over.” He unwound his scarf from around his neck, and Nicky snatched it from his hand and tossed it on a hook by the door before he could even protest.

“No need to thank me, I’m always happy to see you.” She smiled again, then she turned to face Rika, who wasn’t looking at either of them. “Hello, Rika, how are you today?”

It almost looked like she reacted as she lifted her gaze, but in the end it was the window that had drawn her attention, and she wandered over to it to stare at the sky. He was grateful that it was overcast today, the sky a dark grey that was promising snow. That always made it easier to take her out, because he didn’t have to try and force her to wear her glasses.

He sighed, sloughing off his coat to hand off to Nicky’s waiting arms. “Sorry, I’m sure that she appreciates that you said hello.”

Nicky added his coat to the hook, then walked into the kitchen, busying herself with a pot of tea. “Don’t apologize, I understand. Tea?” she held up the extra cup she had already pulled out, and he had to grin, because after dragging Rika onto the bus and traipsing through the freezing cold nothing sounded better.

“Yes, please!” He walked over and took a seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen counter, looking at the expensive chrome handles on the cabinets and the polished marble around the sink. “Wow, this place is really nice.”

She slid a cup of tea over to him, then placed a tin of sugar beside it. “It is. Honestly it made me so uncomfortable when I first got here. I never did feel like I belonged.”

“Really? Then why’d you come back?” he dumped and unholy amount of sugar into his cup, stirring it with the spoon so that the metal clinked against the china.

She shrugged, cradling her own cup in her hand. “Somebody had to sort through her things, and I hate my old apartment.”

“Why?”

“It’s full of old memories. It made me remember what it was like to feel all alone, and I don’t want to carry that with me.” She smiled and tilted her head to the side, sending her hair tumbling over her shoulder.

“Oh, speaking of you never being alone, where’s Saeyoung?”

She laughed, and he never realized how bright it made the room when she did so. It was much nicer getting to spend time with her in person, rather than just trying to picture her from the other end of a chat. “He’s at the hospital, with Saeran. He won’t let him in the room yet, but he’s been sitting outside the door so that Saeran knows he’s around. Enough about me, though, how are _you_?”

“Busy. Declaring a major brought a lot more homework than I expected.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t believe your big, secret major was that you hadn’t even picked anything yet.”

“What? There’s a lot of options.” He hid his pout around a sip of tea, and she tipped her head back and giggle.

“Sneaky. Still, I fully support your choice. Psychology suits you, I think.”

He blushed, a rush of pride filling him because he had pleased her. “Thanks. I just…I want to be able to help people from getting as sick as Rika.”

“That’s a very noble goal.” She looked over at Rika, who had placed her hand on the window as she peered up at the sky.  “How has she been?”

He put his cup down, fighting the emotions that wanted to come tumbling out of him. “I can’t believe you’re even asking. I can’t believe you let me bring her over here today.”

“If it helps her, I’m more than happy to have her here. It was her apartment, after all.”

“Yeah, but…don’t you hate her?”

Nicky wasn’t looking at him while she spoke, instead watching Rika as she moped over the dark sky. “No, I don’t hate her.” Her voice was soft, and sad, like she was pulling the way he felt out of his heart and giving it sound. “I know what it’s like to fight shadows. She lost the fight. I don’t hate her, I pity her. I wish that someone had known how to save her from herself. And V.”

_V_. Yoosung didn’t like to spend his time thinking about him. He didn’t like to think about the fact that he had given his life to save Rika. He didn’t like to think about the fact that Rika had cried after the funeral, even if she hadn’t seemed to notice. He didn’t like to think about the fact that the last thing he had ever said to V was to blame him for everything that had happened. V had stood in his dorm room telling him that he didn’t want to know the truth, and he had been right. It might have been the most honest thing that he had ever said. Yoosung wanted to continue blaming him for all the bad in the world, he wanted to paint him as the villain in his story. He wanted to hate him…but he had seen Rika slap Jumin across the face, he had seen her scream at Saeran like the only thing that had brought her joy was seeing him suffer. V was not the villain. He had never been the villain, he had just been wrong.

He cleared his throat, wishing that things were so much simpler than they had turned out to be. “So, how did the rest of your week go? Were your classes okay?”

She grimaced, draining the last of her tea. “Well, nobody is talking to me, but that’s an improvement over the things they had been saying before, so I guess…better?”

“You should let Jumin send you security guards.”

“That really wouldn’t help.” She rolled her eyes, taking her cup and setting it in the bottom of the sink before walking around the counter to take a seat next to him. “You guys can’t run around fighting all my problems for me.”

“We could try!” he flashed a wide smile at her, and she shoved his shoulder with a gentle push, sending him wavering in the stool. “I’m sorry you have to deal with such crappy people, though.”

“We all have our burdens.” She looked back at Rika, and he knew that she was thinking that she felt sorry for him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, so he didn’t say anything. “How long before the appointment?”

He glanced at his watch, staring as the second hand ticked in a circle. “Not long. We should probably get going, I’m meeting with Anna before we drop her off.”

Nicky turned around, her grin turning from sweet to conniving in the span of a heartbeat. “How are things going with her?”

“Good. I think.” He sighed. “I worry about what she thinks of all this.”

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks of ‘all this’.” Nicky used her fingers to make air quotes around his phrase. “What matters is what she thinks of you.”

He looked at Rika, as still as a statue. “It’s hard to find time to figure that out.”

“Yoosung?”

“Hm?” he turned back at the serious dip in her tone, meeting her eyes as she chewed her lower lip. “I know you’re working really hard to take care of Rika, and I’m really proud of you for stepping up to do that. But…remember to take care of yourself, too, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” He did try. He really did. Every day it got a bit more frustrating, though. Rika was more like a moving doll than a person, and it was a challenge to get her to do anything at all. Taking care of her was a full-time job, and he had moved all his classes online trying to accommodate for it. He was exhausted. Between therapy exercises that never seemed to work, making Rika eat and drink and do basic things to stay alive, plus studying, he really had no more time left for himself. What little time he _did_ have he then devoted to Anna, who deserved so much more than she was getting from him.

He stood from the stool, walking over to take Rika’s arm. She tried to fight him as he led her away from the window, and he covered her eyes with his palm like the therapist had recommended. He felt her face pass from angry to scared, waiting for her breathing to return to normal before he let go. Her expression was placid once more, looking at nothing and everything with no emotion at all. He led her over to the door, where Nicky was already waiting with his things.

“Thanks again for the tea. And for letting her come over, even for just a few minutes. We’re hoping seeing familiar things might trigger a response later.”

Nicky’s smile was warm, as always. “Anytime, Yoosung. And if there’s anything else I can do to help, all you ever have to do is ask.”

She surprised him when she yanked him into a hug, his scarf only halfway around his neck. He returned the affection, taking a moment to lean on her for support. “Thanks, Nicky. You’re way too nice, but I appreciate it.”

She let him go, patting the side of his cheek playfully before she turned to Rika, shocking both of them by taking her hand. “Rika, if you ever want to come over again you just let Yoosung know, okay?”

He swallowed, wishing he could explain to her how much it meant to him that she was so kind and forgiving. She didn’t have a resentful bone in her body, and even though Rika and V had nearly destroyed her, she had still been the one who was most vocal about their absolution. The world had given Nicky armfuls of darkness, and she just kept holding all of it until it became light.

Just before he was about to leave, his phone beeped, and he lifted it out of the pocket to see a message from Jumin sitting on the screen. Nicky’s phone made a noise a moment after, and she pulled it out the front of her sweater, looking at Yoosung curiously.

“Is yours from Jumin, too?”

He nodded, wondering what was going on now. Another message showed up before he had time to open the phone, and he started giggling as he read it, waving his hands at Nicky. “Oh my gosh, do what it says, hurry, hurry!!!”

**Jumin: get in the chatroom, tell Nicolette to come too if she does not see her phone**

**Jumin: Vanderwood is about to log in and Saeyoung is on**

He unlocked his phone as Nicky did the same with her own, both pulling up the RFA chat.

****

**_Yoosung has entered the chatroom._ **

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: Babe! How** **’s your day going?**

**Nicolette: Good** **…what’s going on?**

**_Jaehee has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jaehee: did I miss it?**

**707: ????**

**Jumin: Just wait**

**ZEN: OMG this should be great**

**Yoosung: Jumin, how do you know?**

**Jumin: I can hear her mumbling profanity as she opens it**

**Jaehee: That** **’s not work appropriate -_-**

**707: uh oh**

**707: I know what** **’s happening**

**707: now I** **’m going to be in trouble**

**Nicolette: What did you do?**

**Yoosung: wait and see~**

**ZEN: I feel like I need popcorn**

“You’re still standing right here, Yoosung, you could have just told me that.” He shushed her and she rolled her eyes, returning them to the phone. He felt like he was about to burst with glee, and he could hardly contain his laughter.

**707: Just know**

**707: that if I die this day**

**707: all of my belongings go to Nicky**

**Nicolette: ?????**

**707: especially all my baby cars**

**707: and Yoosung**

**Yoosung: ??**

**707: you are tasked with deleting my browser history**

**Yoosung: OMG**

**Yoosung: NO**

**ZEN: What are you trying to hide, huh?**

**707: YOOSUNG, THAT IS A FRIEND** **’S SACRED DUTY**

**707: MY HISTORY IS BETWEEN ME AND GOD**

**Nicolette: lol now I** **’m curious**

**707: ;)**

**707: okay, you I could tell, but later ;)**

**ZEN: Ew.**

**Jumin: She just started swearing because she saw Saeyoung was logged in.**

**ZEN: RIP Saeyoung**

**_Mom has entered the chatroom._ **

**Mom: SAEYOUNG**

**Mom: CHANGE MY SCREEN NAME RIGHT NOW**

**707: look everyone**

**707: mom** **’s here**

Nicky clapped her hand over her mouth, her laughter making her double over, and Yoosung followed, shaking with the effort that it took to breathe around the mirth.

**Mom: I will not hesitate to taser your ass**

**707: so maternal**

**Jumin: You do call us** **“idiot kids” all the time**

**707: Please adopt Jumin, he needs a feminine figure in his life**

**ZEN: lolololol**

**Jumin: I do not.**

**Yoosung: omg lolololol**

**Mom: I regret saving any of you.**

**Nicolette: lol I think it suits you, Vandy**

**Mom: You WOULD**

**707: What? It** **’s not like you told me what you wanted for a screen name**

**Mom: HOW ABOUT MY NAME, ASSHOLE?**

**707: oh no**

**707: look at the time**

**707: I have to go**

**707: I think I hear Nicky calling me**

**Nicolette: I** **’m not**

**707: Nope, definitely calling me**

**707: I must rush to her side**

**707: Bye, Mom!**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

**Mom: Idiot.**

**Mom: I** **’m going to murder him.**

**ZEN: lololol**

**Yoosung: this was the best reason to log in, but I have to go now**

**Yoosung: Bye mamma Vanderwood!!!**

**Mom: I WILL HURT YOU, SMALL BLONDE CHILD**

**_Yoosung has left the chatroom._ **

****

“I am going to be late to meet up with Anna now, but that was so worth it.” He wiped a tear from the edge of his eye as his breathing returned to normal, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“One of these days she’s going to hit him hard enough he might actually listen.” Nicky giggled, her cheeks red from laughter. “Oh man, but if it’s for something like this it really _would_ have been worth it.” She sighed, holding her stomach. “Oh, that was the best surprise. Anyways, you should hurry, don’t keep Anna waiting.” She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him towards the door.

“See ya later!” he took Rika by the elbow, leading her out. Nicky waved before she closed the door, and he proceeded down the hall and towards the elevator.

He looked over at Rika, her lips tilted upward the slightest bit. Was she smiling? Was she happy? Had something about their laughter made her feel better? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell anything about her. She was hollow, and every day he woke up and desperately tried to fill her again, trying to give her pieces of herself back that might not have ever been real. What she needed was V, and he could never give her that again, because she had let him destroy herself instead of fighting to get better. He loved her, and he only wanted to see her well and happy, but as the burden of her care became heavier he was starting to think that wasn’t possible.

The laughter drained out of him as his exhaustion settled back in, his shoulders sagging as the elevator took them down.

The cold made his cheeks tingle as they walked outside, and he dragged his charge behind him as they made their way down the street. Anna would probably already be waiting outside the hospital by now, so he hurried as much as he could, though Rika wasn’t cooperating very much. It wasn’t fair to keep her waiting in this weather, although it wouldn’t have been the first time he was late for their dates. He must seem so awful and scatterbrained to her. He wished that he knew how to be stronger, to hold himself together better.

He turned the corner and saw her standing on the edge of the street, wearing a mint green petticoat and a lavender scarf. She spotted him and waved, bouncing on her feet as her hair danced in the wind. She looked like a picture from a fairy tale, the beautiful heroine waiting for her prince charming to come whisk her away. It made him sad that all she had to look forward to was him.

He crossed the street and she pounced on him, pulling him into a tight hug that squeezed the breath from his lungs. He returned it with one hand, keeping the other on Rika so she wouldn’t wander into traffic. He would have liked to hold her closer, to devote all his attention to saying hello, but once again the problems in his life got in the way.

“Hi.” Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her eyes glowing, and he couldn’t help but grin at her.

“Hi.” He dipped his head to kiss her, tasting the cold against her lips, which made him shiver. “Come on, let’s get her to the therapist so we can get coffee, I could use the warmth.”

“Okay.” She grinned and turned to Rika, waving once more. “Hello Rika, I hope you’re feeling well today.”

Rika stared at the sky, ignoring them both.

Anna wrapped her arm around his other elbow as they walked towards the hospital, and he tried to let his worries fall away. He tried not to think about all the emotions swimming around in his head, overcrowding his thoughts so that the present seemed like a distant dream while he wallowed in the awful past and the stress of the future. He wanted to take Anna’s hand and stroll through the street, laughing like a normal couple. He didn’t want this weight on his shoulders, but he was the only one that could take it. He was the only one left who cared enough about Rika to save her.

“Are you okay?” she was frowning at him, and he felt like such a failure for letting his feelings get the better of him.

He sniffed, trying to blink the tears out of his gaze to keep them from falling. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Sorry, I don’t mean to be so weak.” She looked at the ground, watching their feet move across the pavement, but he could see the hurt in her eyes before she turned her head. She looked like she wanted to burst into tears, and so he stopped them just inside the hospital doors, shifting Rika inside safely before he looked down at Anna. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so emotional.”

She shook her head, her hair swishing back and forth as her eyes glistened too brightly. “I’m not upset that you’re emotional. I’m upset that you think you can’t show me that side of you. I’m scared you’ll text me and disappear again, and that maybe next time you won’t come back, and I won’t even know because you won’t tell me anything.”

“I just…I just want to be happy and strong for you.” He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady, trying to be what she deserved. “That’s what being a good boyfriend is all about, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to date a ‘good boyfriend’. I want to be with Yoosung, and Yoosung is a person, not an idea.” She sniffed, a single tear rolling out of the corner of her eye before she angrily swiped it away. “You _are_ strong, and happy, but you’re other things, too. I want…I want to be with those parts of you, as well.”

“Anna…”  he took her hand, lacing their fingers together. He didn’t deserve her, not in the least, but he couldn’t push her away if it made her this upset. That was a lesson he should have learned watching Saeyoung and Nicky.

“The sun. No one can be sad when they hold the sun in their arms.” Rika’s voice startled them both, and they turned to see her smiling at them. “When souls meet in heaven and fall in love, they promise to meet on earth again beneath the light of the sun.” Her smile faded after she had finished the strange announcement, her face returning to passive emptiness. She didn’t seem to register that she had even said anything at all, and he blinked, wondering if it had been reality or a hallucination.

Yoosung looked down at Anna. “Did she just…did that just happen?” Anna nodded, and Yoosung let go of her hand to rush over to Rika. He could tell that she was gone again, lost in the prison she built for herself in her head, but this was the first time she had spoken since V’s death. It was such a huge breakthrough. He turned back to Anna, smiling as wide as he had in days. “Hey, let me get her up to the therapist, I’ll be right back, okay?” She nodded, and he started guiding Rika through the halls towards the psychiatry ward.

It felt like a short walk because he was elated that something had finally happened that wasn’t dour and dismal. The therapist seemed equally excited when he relayed the information to her, and she promised that she would work with Rika further to see if they could make additional progress. Yoosung watched them go into the room and close the door before he started rushing back out to Anna, practically skipping.

She smiled when he returned, but it seemed subdued, and he wondered if she was still upset about what they had been discussing before Rika had interrupted. She was right, too, and he needed to remember that shutting her out because he thought it was best for her was the same mistake that both V and Saeyoung had made. He never wanted to see Anna hurt like that, so he needed to do better. He needed to find a way to be both strong for her and open with her, or he would risk losing her. Even if he thought she might be happier that way, he didn’t want it to end that way. He wanted to hold on to her, and he could only hope that everything crowding into his life wouldn’t eventually drive her away.

They stepped into the cold, and she shrugged her shoulders, pulling her jacket up around her ears. She tried to smile again, but it was so half-hearted compared to her usual cheer that he couldn’t help himself. He swept her up into his arms, pulling her off her feet and spinning them around as he kissed her. He felt her laugh against his lips, and when he stopped whirling he leaned her back, deepening his hold on her until the giggle turned into a sigh. He tilted them back upright, but he didn’t let her go, rubbing his nose against hers as her happiness seemed to burn brighter again.

“Thank you, for coming with me today. I’m sorry, I know this stuff with Rika is a lot to handle, and I know I haven’t been the best at showing you how I feel about it, but I’ll try to do better.” He sighed, his fingers brushing through her hair as he pulled her tight against him. “I’m so amazed you haven’t run away screaming by now.”

“But I love you.” The second the words left her lips his heart stopped, and her eyes opened wider than he had ever seen them. She looked terrified, her chin trembling as her cheeks turned a deep pink, darker than the cold had made them. “I mean, oh no, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I know it’s so soon, and it just sort of came out, and you don’t have to say it back, I understand, it’s too early -”

He kissed her again, making her fall silent with the force of his reaction, crushing her against his chest to prove that she was real and this moment was happening. He had never been happier, and he needed her to know that, so he poured the feeling into her, showing her what he meant in a rare instant that he knew exactly what to do. When he felt her tension melt away he pulled back, pressing their foreheads together and meeting her gaze.

“I don’t think it’s too soon at all. I love you, too.”

The look she gave him made him feel like every ounce of suffering he had gone through was worth it, if it had led him to this moment. He kissed her again, unwilling to let her go, unwilling to stop showering her with his affection so that she would know exactly how he felt. Flakes from the first snowfall of the season drifted down from the sky, falling onto their shoulders and settling onto her hair. She was beautiful in the snow. She was beautiful in his arms. She was beautiful always, and he never wanted to let her go.

It took them awhile, but they eventually found their way to coffee, and Yoosung watched the snow fall and decided that maybe the world wasn’t so bleak after all.  


	74. The Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin searches for a song and finds it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervously introduces character*

 He had been returning to the street in front of the apartment every day for two weeks. He had scheduled it so that he could walk by at the same time he had on the day of the funeral, consistency being key if he were to repeat the events of that afternoon. The first time he had felt like a fool, wandering along the street and hoping to receive the gift of music that he would steal by standing beneath a windowsill. Yet when he had arrived, and the piano player had been at work, his embarrassment had melted away. It was impossible to concern himself with such trivial things when a song so beautiful was floating through fluttering curtains. He had not known what made the man play with his window wide in the dawn of winter, nor what made him so mesmerizing to watch, but he knew that it granted him peace and joy when little else could these days.

Today, however, he found himself standing and looking up at the same spot his eyes had rested each day, except now the window was shut and the street was woefully silent. He should leave, and he knew it, but his feet were rooted in place as he tried to deal with his disappointment. The silence seemed so loud, and so very heartbreaking, so much so that he couldn’t bring himself to depart because pieces of him hoped the man would return, throw open the window, and resume his marvels. He sighed, seeing the dark and empty room beyond the curtains, and he knew that it had been too much to ask for such a beautiful gift to be given for free indefinitely.

A coffee cup appeared before his face, and he took a step back in surprise, the heady scent of a dark roast wafting out of the lid and sending trails of steam in the air. His eyes trailed along the arm holding it, following it to the man who he had watched for days, smirking around a dark grey scarf as he took a sip from a cup he held in his other hand. He was lean, and even standing in place he seemed to hold the music within him, like his body never stopped dancing even when still. His eyes were a deep, dark blue, the color of the ocean beneath silver moonlight, and there were freckles across the bridge of his nose that Jumin had never noticed before.

“I thought today you might like to listen to me play inside, where it is not so cold.” He spoke with a fluid Russian accent, the words passing over his lips with strange tilts and inarguable warmth.

Jumin blinked at him, at a loss for words, and the man held the coffee cup out closer to his face. Jumin took it, more out of shock than anything else, letting the heat seep into his fingers as he stared, dumbfounded. It took him far too long, but the meaning of the man’s words finally sank into his head, and he swallowed a gasp and looked at the ground. He hadn’t thought he had been noticed. He was horrified that the artist had known that he had been beyond his window, listening to what was surely a personal show.

“I…I didn’t think you were aware of my presence. I apologize for disturbing you.” His words felt inadequate, as they often did, and he glared at the spot on the concrete between his leather shoes.

“Not at all.” He chuckled, and the sound drew Jumin’s eyes back to him to see the smile on his face. “It was good to have such an attentive audience. It reminded me to play my best.”

He felt half of his lips rise in a smirk, unbidden and of their own accord. “Your best is very impressive.”

“You think so?” he seemed genuinely surprised at the compliment, and Jumin watched as a blush of pink rolled across the tops of his cheeks.

Jumin took a sip of the gifted coffee, letting the blend of bitter and cream grant some of his composure back to him. “Yes.” The warmth felt like it spread from his lips all they way to his toes. “Your talent is clearly of a very high caliber.”

The blush on the pianist’s face deepened, and he reached up to rub his palm against the back of his neck in an awkward habit that made Jumin smile. “I…thank you. I don’t really know what to say.” He laughed again, and it carried with it a jittery energy like bubbles on the rim of a glass of champagne. “I…um, would you like to come up? It would be my honor to play for you. Inside, this time.”

“I…I wouldn’t want to impose.” It was a courteous lie, one which he wished he could take back immediately. The truth was that he would have very, very much liked to impose if it meant hearing him play again.

“No!” he held out his hand, waving away the courtesy with his sincerity. “No, it would be my pleasure. I want to be able to play for someone who has been so nice to stop and listen to me so often.”

Jumin felt as light as a feather carried by the arms of the wind. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a request, then. It’s the least I can do to repay you for the coffee.” He held up the cup in question, taking another sip to hide his grin.

The other man cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting red once more. “I _did_ have to walk three blocks to get the best coffee. I, uh, did not think anything common would do.”

Jumin felt his mouth fall open, but there was no speech that he could provide along with it. His mind drew a blank, and he stared at the man with his midnight eyes, surprised into awe at his strange charm. Were all artists this captivating? Was that why V and Nicky had held him sway from the start?

He realized that he had been gaping for several seconds too long, and that he must have been making this terribly awkward. “I’m Jumin, by the way.” He held out his hand, and the other man took it. His palm was soft against his own, though he could feel calluses on the outside of his thumb from where they had brushed against ivory keys thousands of times.

“Aleksei, although you can just call me Aleks. It is a rare pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jumin.”

His name sounded different when pronounced with a Russian accent, and once more he found himself caught off guard by something the lean man had said. The thought that he would love to hear him say his name again flitted through his mind, and a rush of heat spread along his spine. He let go of Aleks’ hand, looking off to the side as his cheeks burned. He didn’t understand what had come over him, or why he was suddenly so nervous. Perhaps that, too, was the power of the artist.

“Come, you must be cold.” Aleks placed his hand between Jumin’s shoulders, propelling him forward towards the door to the building. They entered and made their way to the elevator in comfortable silence, each taking sips from their drinks as Aleks pressed the button for the correct floor. Jumin appreciated how good the coffee had turned out to be, agreeing that it was indeed uncommon, and he made a mental note to discover which shop had brewed it. It was rare to find a place which produced the strength that he preferred, rarer still to find the right ratio of cream. It occurred to him that Aleks had known how he took his coffee without ever having to ask, another rare discovery. The insight of the artist was astute, as it would seem.

The elevator doors opened and he trailed after Aleks along the modern hallway. He stopped at one of the doors towards the front end of the building, producing a key and sliding it into the lock. He opened the door and bowed, holding out his arm to invite Jumin in, and he nodded his head in gratitude as he entered the apartment. They removed their coats, hanging them on the polished brass hooks beside the entry hall. It was elegant, though sparsely decorated. There was modestly sized living area, and an open kitchen to the right of the entrance. The most notable item in the space, however, was an extravagant grand piano placed in front of the window. It was carved out of rich mahogany, the wood polished with a faintly red finish so that it seemed like embers were trapped in the dark grain. It gleamed beneath the lights coming from the high vaulted ceiling, and Aleks walked over to it and ran his hand along the smooth surface.

“ _This_ is Natasha.” He grinned at Jumin, his chest swelling with pride.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You named your piano?”

“Of course! The most important thing in my life deserves a name, no?”

Jumin wandered across the room to stand by his side, sliding his own fingers across the wood of the instrument. It was cool, and soft, oiled to perfection by an expert hand. It was clear that it was well taken care of, and that Aleks devoted a great deal of love to the tool which he had mastered. Aleks shifted, turning to walk around and take a seat on the bench in front of the keys, his fingers hovering over the neat row of black and white.

“What would you like to hear?”

“Anything.” He meant it honestly, and he breathed the word with all the sincerity that he could muster. He had been listening for days, and each time he had returned to drown in the music had been as astounding as the last, if not more so. Aleks had never once failed to take his breath away.

Aleks smiled, stretched out his nimble fingers, and started to play. He didn’t even require any sheets of notes to guide him, turning to the keys as though the music were etched in his blood. Jumin listened, and once more he was carried by the notes as they swelled around him. He was enthralled, the blend of sounds complex yet simple, overwhelming yet soft. He closed his eyes, leaning against the top of the piano and letting his head tilt back between his shoulders, taking a deep breath and letting each new measure evoke emotions in him that he felt no need to hide. It was strange to allow himself such a thing, such a rush of unidentified thoughts that were chaotic and yet natural, but something about the way Aleks played relaxed him enough so that he felt free. He imagined himself as a rose, petals clutched tightly against the stem, but the music was like the first stroke of dawn, drawing him open to the brilliant morning light. When the song ended and the keys fell silent, Jumin remained still, letting the quiet wash over him and settle in his bones.

When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, Aleks remained in his seat, cheeks glowing with a pink flush and mouth hanging ajar. His blue eyes were wide as they watched him, and he met his gaze, feeling his own face turn to heat as embarrassment flooded through him. He looked at the floor, willing his heart to resume its rhythm in his chest, wondering how it was that music could affect him so.

His phone chimed in his pocket, and he sighed, fishing it out of his jacket to look at the screen. Nicolette’s face peered up at him, and he gave Aleks an apologetic smile. “Sorry, forgive me, I need to take this.” Aleks held up his hands to motion that he continue, and Jumin answered the call. “Hello, Nicolette.”

“Jumin Han, why are there men in suits and sunglasses showing up near just about every classroom that I happen to be going to.” She sounded furious, which made him stand up straighter.

“Because you won’t allow me to ask them to follow you directly.”

“Yes! For a reason! Now people who hadn’t even heard what happened are getting curious about me, which is only giving Jen and Liara more ammunition.”

He winced as she shouted each sentence. “Look, you had said that they threatened you, or near enough to it that it should have given you pause. I’m not comfortable with you -”

“Jumin.” She cut him off, speaking his name like a command, and he knew that he had lost the argument before it had even begun.

“Very well. I will ask them to stop.”

“Immediately?”

He sighed. “Yes, I’m currently out, but I will head to the office at once. Will you promise me you’ll be careful?”

“Yes, of course.” She sighed herself, and he heard the anger drain away from her. “But please remember not to do things without asking me, especially not things that I’ve already told you not to do. I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but I need to handle this myself.” She was such a stubborn girl, but he could not deny that he understood the need to stand on the strength of her own merit. He had waged that war with his father many times, and he did not wish to be on the opposing end of the same battle with her.

“Fine. Please, ask for help if you need it. I don’t want you taxing yourself when we could have easily solved the problem together.” He placed his hand on his hip as he spoke, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

“I promise, if at any point I think you can do anything, you’ll be the first to know. Oh, I have to go, my next class is about to start. I’ll talk to you tonight!” she disconnected the line, and he shook his head as he put his phone back in his pocket.

He turned back to Aleks, who was toying with the keys and watching him out of the corner of his eyes. “My apologies, but I must take my leave.” He bowed, although he wasn’t sure if the situation truly called for such decorum. It had seemed like the thing to do until he had completed the action, but now he felt too dramatic. Aleks stood, and the bemused smile on his face was enough to set Jumin’s nerves at ease, and he stood up straighter.

Aleks swallowed, and Jumin watched the muscles in his jaw clench and release. “Will you be back again?”

He tilted his head, considering the artist before him as he fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. It was strange, to connect with someone this way, and it was stranger still that he felt like his skin danced with electricity simply standing in the room with him, but he could not picture letting go of the beautiful music that Aleks played. He could not forget the notes, the way they unlocked parts of him that he did not think he possessed. Nor could he forget the way it had sounded when Aleks said his name.

He shook the thoughts from his head, returning to his senses before he appeared to be a foolish man who stared too often. “Yes, if you have no objections, I would like to return. Tomorrow I can bring the refreshments.”

Aleks blushed, and as Jumin donned his coat once more he could not fail to notice how happy the artist looked at the idea. He waved as he left, and when the door was shut Jumin left the building with a smile on his face. Perhaps the first true one in weeks.


	75. Twisted Creature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeyoung tries to take a step forward.

Today he was going to try sitting inside the room.

He wasn’t planning on talking, or trying to disturb him. Saeyoung would say hello, then take a seat and occupy himself with his phone. It was a small change, but it felt like a monumental step, one leap for mankind that would either place him on the moon or send him tumbling into empty space. His last attempt still haunted him, and his heart thundered in his chest as the images replayed in his head once more. He could still see his brother clutching his head, rocking back and forth, pain and fear the only stories written on his face.

He didn’t want to have a repeat of that event. In fact, the degree to which he did not want to relive those moments was what had driven him to do nothing more than say hello each day and then lurk in the hallway outside his brother’s door, wishing that he had an ounce of courage to face him. He had prayed for some kind of miracle, some magic to pour out of the sky that Saeran couldn’t stop staring at, to fill him with the peace he deserved. It seemed he had run out of luck, however. There was no magic left for the world to offer him in response to his desperate pleas. Perhaps getting to keep the love of his life had been his last free gift, and everything else he would need to earn.

He could do that, though. He could be stronger, and he could fight the demons of the past and shoulder his guilt. This was all his fault, after all, so it was only right that he worked to fix it.

He opened the door, pushing it forward with a slow, measured shove. Saeran didn’t look at him, but he saw the muscles in his shoulders tense, his fingers curling together around his palm. Saeyoung opted not to speak, keeping his head down and sitting in the chair, making himself part of the room for the first time in two weeks. He did not say hello, as he might have other days. He did not try to talk, or reason with him, or beg for forgiveness. He was too terrified that it would bring forth the tremendous hatred that overwhelmed the small frame so often. Like his bones were made of loathing after years of being broken and reset.

He took out his phone, opening the RFA app as a distraction, and tried to convince himself that everything was going to be okay.

****

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: Somebody talk to me**

**Jaehee: Hello, Saeyoung**

**ZEN: Hiya. Are you at the hospital?**

**707: Yes.**

**707: I am in the room.**

**Jaehee:** **…**

**Jaehee: Is he taking it well?**

Saeyoung glanced up, out of the corner of his eye, and he saw his brother tremble. He still wasn’t looking at him, but he could tell his presence had been noticed, cataloged as one more annoyance in Saeran’s world. He felt so small when his brother got that look in his eye, like Saeran wanted to tear him apart with his bare hands. Saeyoung looked back at his phone.

**707: Well, there** **’s no screaming.**

**ZEN: Good!**

**707: Anyways**

**707: enough about me**

**707: talk to me about something else**

**707: hey**

**707: shouldn** **’t you two be off canoodling somewhere?**

**Jaehee: -_- you and Nicky log in together all the time**

**707: only after canoodles**

**ZEN: STOP**

**ZEN: I don** **’t want to hear that**

**707: lol why not?**

**707: Why so bashful?**

**707: could it be?!?!?!**

**707: Zenny is a virgin?**

**Jaehee: HA!**

**ZEN:** **…**

**Jaehee: Sorry, couldn** **’t resist.**

**707: lol guess not then**

**707: so unpure**

**ZEN: Right like you** **’re one to talk**

**707: I am always one to talk**

**707: I** **’m very pure**

**707: I was a nun once**

He tapped the camera icon and sent the picture that had been taken the time he had dressed as a holy woman of the cloth. He was happy that the file had been saved, even though their old phones had been lost when the cabin was ransacked by the cultists. All his pictures had been backed up in his servers, so he had kept all the secret memories locked away in his phone. Days that could never be relived, pictures of people that had moved on from this world. Some of those included pictures of him in a habit, followed by a few shots of what the sisters in the convent had looked like while chasing them down. He would never tell anyone that story, but he could always use the pictures to blackmail Vanderwood, if he needed to.

**Jaehee: Why do you even have that picture?**

**707: it** **’s a long story that I’ll never tell**

**ZEN: So mysterious~**

**707: I was a spy**

**ZEN: I thought we weren** **’t having anymore secrets**

**707: look**

**707: if you ever need to know**

**707: the fastest way to piss off a nun**

**707: and it is literally a life or death situation**

**707: then I will tell you**

**ZEN: I have to know.**

**Jaehee: I don** **’t even want to know. >.>**

**707: lol I won** **’t even tell Nicky that one**

**ZEN: Will this be the hidden truth that breaks you apart?**

**707: nah**

**707: that** **’s not possible**

**Jaehee: That I would believe.**

**ZEN: *sigh* true**

 

“What are you smiling about?” the voice, familiar and yet horribly strained, shocked Saeyoung out of the conversation on his phone, and he lifted his head to see his brother staring at him.

He wanted to cry. Not because of the attention, and not because it was the first thing that Saeran had said to him that wasn’t full of vitriol. He wanted to cry because his eyes weren’t full of rage as he craned his neck to try and see the screen. There was suspicion, and curiosity, like the bright blue of the winter sky when the storm had skirted across the horizon. It was not perfect, it was not what they should be, there was still no light, but the fires of hate were dim, and it was the first time when looking at _him_ that Saeran had seemed like himself.

Saeyoung stood, holding the phone out. “Do you want to see?”

“What?” Saeran blinked, confusion muddling his face. He was a cherry blossom dangling at the edge of a web, tossed in the wind. Fragile, tenuous, yet so wonderful to see. Saeyoung wanted to rush forward, to grab his hand and begin pleading for forgiveness, but he knew it would be too much. He would break whatever hold there was on the moment, and send his brother toppling back into the darkness.

He took another step forward, and then another, reaching the side of the bed. He took his time, he didn’t rush, he held his breath. He didn’t want to mess this up. He only got close enough so that Saeran could reach his phone, his distance limited by the roped manacles around his wrists. His twin stared at the phone, as though he didn’t understand what it was, didn’t understand what it did. Saeyoung felt like he stood there for an eternity before Saeran lifted his hand and took the device, his fingers hovering over the words on the screen. They no longer shook, at least not with the consistency that they had when he had first weaned off the drugs. There was the odd tremor, here and there, but they were small, meager compared to the earth-shaking rattles that had wracked him before.

Saeran’s eyebrows rose as he looked at the screen. “I didn’t imagine it. She didn’t go to paradise?”

“Nicky?” Saeran nodded, so Saeyoung clarified further. “No, she’s fine. She’s back in school now.”

“School?” he said the word like it was a mythical creature, and Saeyoung wondered if he had ever really gotten to go, or if he had ever enjoyed it when he had. Did he like to study? Did he have friends? What had he lost when Rika stole him away to destroy his mind?

He ventured a step closer to the bed, so he could see the screen. Saeran was scrolling up through the words slowly, reading them like he didn’t have a good grasp on the language. His eyes were wide, his mouth parted a millimeter.

“She studies music.” It wasn’t what he would have guessed their first conversation would have been about, but he was just grateful that it wasn’t angry. “She asks about you, you know.”

That had been wrong. He knew it was the wrong thing to say when he saw Saeran flinch, when he saw the calm driven away by panic that surged through him, inch by inch. It was a switch, some key piece of information in what he had said that triggered the end of the peace and summoned forth the boiling darkness. Saeran faded, and in his place stood twenty-two years of bitter violence.

He threw the phone across the room, and it bounced against the wall before tumbling to the floor. His breathing ran ragged between his lips, wheezing from his lungs in harsh gasps. “No. No, she’s laughing. She’s laughing and she’s screaming.” He yanked at the restraints, and he pulled with such force that the one on his right hand came loose. It happened so quickly Saeyoung didn’t have any time to react before he had reached over and tugged one of the metal rails free from the bed, and swung it at his own head.

“Saeran, no!” he closed the distance between them, grabbing his arm with his left hand. Saeran was stronger than he looked, from fear or an after effect of the drugs he could not say, and Saeyoung couldn’t hold his arm before he smashed the metal into his temple once more. He blinked, a trickle of blood seeping from between his hair. “Saeran, stop.” He tightened his hold, pulling his wrist down, lifting his right hand out of the sling to try and use what little strength it could offer to help him.

Saeran tried to lift his arm again just as Saeyoung’s right hand wrapped around it, and the force of the collision dragged him upward. His shoulder wrenched to the side, and then everything blurred red as he screamed, letting go of his brother and curling away from the pain. He couldn’t quell the sounds of agony pouring out of him, and he continued to cry out in pain as his shoulder felt like fire. He stumbled to the floor, trying to keep his upper body still to let the arm settle once more. It felt like his skin had been ripped like paper, torn at the edges with jaws of flame.

Footsteps echoed from by the door, and three pairs of white shoes rushed by him. Saeran was crying, sobbing with venom and rage. Worse than that was the fear in his voice as he begged them to make the screaming stop. Saeyoung tried to stand, but he was dizzy now that the pain was subsiding, and he had to throw his left hand onto the ground to keep from tumbling onto his face. Gentle fingers wrapped around his arms, pulling him up with slow motions. He blinked, trying to clear the flashing remnants of his agony from his vision. A nurse was standing in front of him, her eyes full of concern.

He ignored her, turning to Saeran. He was in time to see them jam a needle into his arm as he jerked away, shivering like a kitten in the harsh, hateful cold. Tears ran rivers down his face, and his eyes were wide for a few seconds longer. In them Saeyoung saw all his mistakes, every oversight he had ever made. He saw the horrors of their childhood, the horrors of Rika’s apartment, the horrors of the room where Nicky had almost died. He saw nightmares worse than that, as well, things that he had refused to imagine because he had still hoped that none of it had been true. Suffering, acute and vivid; suffering the color of sweet bluebells in a field of summer. How big, how blue, and how broken were his brother’s eyes.

Saeran’s lashes dipped towards his cheeks as his gaze fluttered closed, no light left in them as he faded into unconsciousness. There were nurses scurrying around the room, including the one still standing at his elbow.

“Are you alright?” she didn’t sound kind. She didn’t sound patient. She sounded irritated to be in this room, near the poor boy that refused to heal. Is this what happened when there weren’t enough pieces to put back together? Is this what happened when a human was broken too many times?

“I think he tore my stitches.” His voice was flat, but he didn’t care. He tried to flex his fingers, and he was glad to see he still had as much functionality as he had before the pain. The nurse was saying something about taking him to see his doctor, but he ignored her, walking across the room to pick up his phone.

Not even a crack. Thrown with the force of untold torment, and this small piece of technology had proven more resilient than its aggressor. Would that he could transfer the rips and tears to something inanimate instead of the living soul they had been planted into. He wished that he could take every scar on his brother’s heart and strip it from him, slapping it on a canvas that they could send to their mother, wherever she was. Maybe on paper it wouldn’t be too much to handle. Maybe on paper it would not be so gruesome to consider. Or maybe it would be worse, and she could finally understand what she had done to them.

“Come on, we need to look at your shoulder.” The nurse was pulling him away, and he allowed her to. He didn’t want to stay any longer. He couldn’t. Not when he had to find the courage to get up and come back the next day.

That was all he could do. Keep coming back the next day, and hope that one day he would find his little brother again, and not the twisted creature who had stolen away his smile.


	76. He Was so Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yoosung is very tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all didn't think this was just gonna be a fluff train to the end, right? <3

The sun had gone down hours ago, but she still stared at the sky, waiting for it to return. It was strange that both her and Saeran seemed obsessed with searching for answers up there, like broken people needed the big empty space above them to make the monsters in their heads feel small. Or maybe it was just that Rika had been the one to break him, and so he longed for the same things that she did.

Yoosung sighed, setting down his textbook because his eyes felt they were going to start bleeding if he read anymore this evening. They didn’t hold any answers for him, anyways. Symptoms, diagnostics, how to identify the many ways that people suffered, _that_ information was readily available. The prescription was always the same, though. Time, and some form of therapy. Get to know the patient and adapt to their specific needs. There was no form he could fill out whose answers would dictate an exact path he could take to find Rika’s missing mind. Just conjecture and principles, the details muddled because everything was painted with broad generalizations. The worst parts were the case studies that didn’t end in a positive resolution. Not every patient could be saved. That was the grey morality presented by the educational booklets. Some people were beyond the help of even modern psychology, and their caretakers could do little but shrug and move on. He wondered what happened to the lost causes, and if they ever found their own way to happiness after the system had let them down.

He rubbed his eyes with the side of his hand, blinking to try and return some of the moisture to them. He glanced at his phone, and the clock on the screen told him it was 11:37 pm. He had let her stay up too late because he had been lost in the useless book. He stood and stretched to the ends of his toes, trying to shake the lethargy that had been sinking into his bones all week. He was so tired. So very, very tired.

He stood, walking over to stand next to Rika, peering up at the night sky. There was a mix of stars and clouds overhead tonight, all of them brighter in the cold night air. There was also snow on the ground, filling the world with white. It was like someone had flipped a switch at the beginning of December, and nature had remembered there was an icy season that followed fall. He shivered, rubbing the sides of his arms as the chill seeped through the windowpane. He noticed that Rika’s nose was pink from standing so closely to it.

He took her elbow, gentle, careful, and started pulling her away. “We should really get you to bed.”

She hadn’t taken more than a step before she pulled her arm away, shifting back into her original position. Yoosung felt like an intruder, invading a moment that he couldn’t even begin to understand. She worshiped the sky, and he couldn’t comprehend that love, so it placed him outside the scope of her attention. She had always made him feel like he was invisible when she wasn’t looking at him. That was thrown into stark clarity now that she never looked at him at all.

“Rika, you need to sleep.” He took her arm again, making sure he had a better grip before he started leading her away. She tried to reach out and grab the windowsill, to hold on, but she missed, and he was able to get her further into the middle of the room, towards the hall. She jerked her arm to the side, nearly pulling him off balance and sending them both tumbling to the floor. He widened his stance, trying to get better leverage as he turned.

She surprised him when she swung at him with her free hand, and her fingers made contact on his upper arm. She pressed her nails into him, using the force of her motion to drag then along his skin all the way to his wrist, leaving bright red welts that burned. The pain was excruciating, tried to remember to breathe slowly, to keep his head together. He managed to keep his hold on her, and he reached out to try and grab her other hand, wrapping his fingers around her slender joint to hold her in place.

“Shhh, hold still, it’s okay.” He kept his voice low and calm, even though his heart was racing. He couldn’t meet her gaze because her eyes were wild and looking everywhere but at him, her neck craning as she tried to turn her head around to see the window.

He imagined his face as a still pond, no ripples to disturb the peace. This was not the first time that this had happened, and the therapist had told him remaining calm was key. All his textbooks told him remaining calm would save them. Sterilize his fear and anger and pain so that all that she saw was a placid, friendly smile. That was the prescription for her mindless rage. He could feel the welts on his arm starting to bleed, and he was glad that it was winter now, so that he could wear sweaters to cover them next time he went out. That was better than explaining.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and it broke his heart. She jerked away from him, and the first time he was able to keep his grip, but the second time she got a hand free. She threw her arm out in a wide arc, and her palm made contact with the side of his cheek. It was hard enough to make his head turn, and tears broke through the edges of his eyes from the pain. He took a deep breath and willed himself to keep his composure. He tried once more to grab her free arm, to hold her until he could make her calm, but she waved it out of his reach. She turned her head towards the hand still gripping her, and before he could stop her she sank her teeth into his skin. He screamed before he could kill the sound, biting down on his tongue to keep himself quiet. When she pulled back he could see blood welling around the dark purple punctures, already bruised, already throbbing. She lurched towards the window while he was stunned enough to lose his footing, and she dragged them both across the room.

“Rika, please calm down. Please.” He was begging her, but it made no difference. She was deaf to his words, blind to his tears, uncaring about the pain that she had caused.

She surged forward, slamming into the window hard enough to send a crack splintering along the middle. He sucked in a panicked breath, worried that it would shatter, but the thick glass held firm. She slapped her palm against the damage, and he heard it creak from the force. He yanked her back with all the strength he had, wrapping his arms around her chest and arms to hold her still.

The sound she made was awful. A horrible yowl, like a cornered animal, sick with mange and fighting against the beasts that had chased it into a corner. He didn’t want to do this.

“Please, shhhhh, please calm down, please, please…”

She thrashed against him, flailing as much as she could in his grip. She couldn’t reach to bite him again, but her nails still left new scratches along parts of his arms. He tightened his hold with his left arm, and thrust his right hand in his pocket, his fingers wrapping around the injector pen that the doctor had given him the first time she had injured him.

He didn’t want to do this.

He pulled it out, yanked the cap off with his teeth, and jammed it into her upper arm. It was supposed to be her thigh, but he couldn’t reach it without letting her go, and he was scared that if he let her go she would leap out the window before he would have a chance to do anything about it. He would lose her for good, and it would be all his fault. She yelled in pain and surprise, and Yoosung felt like he had just kicked a puppy. He kept holding her until her struggling lessened, fading away into half-hearted tremors, then trembling, and then stillness. She went limp against him, and he lifted her the best that he could manage.

He carried her down the hall to her bedroom, setting her into her bed and pulling the covers around her. He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and used it to wipe the tears off her face. Her cheeks were red, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. The sound she had made when he sedated her replayed through his head, over and over, but she was quiet and peaceful now.

He left the room, turning off the light and shutting the door on his way out. He took a step, but he felt dizzy and nauseous, so he had to sag against the wall for support. He sank onto the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and folding in on himself, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his sobs quiet. They wouldn’t wake her, because she was medically guaranteed to be asleep for a few hours, but he still didn’t want to make any sound. He didn’t want the world to hear him weeping for his failure.

He hated himself. She had struggled before, but he had always been able to calm her down. He knew that she got unrulier when he let her stay up too late, but he still hadn’t bothered to check the time. He was so absorbed in his homework that he had let her care slip his mind. He was pulled in so many directions, but that wasn’t a good excuse. There _was_ no good excuse. He had failed her, and he had then been forced to punish her in his place. It should have been him with a shot of oblivion in his arm, yelping like a child betrayed by a trusted adult. It should have been him full of shock and pain, he should have been the one to bear that burden.

She had never spiraled so far out of his control before, and it scared him. He woke up every day hoping that she was getting better, telling himself that her eyes seemed to have more focus sometimes or that she was responding better to his voice. It was all lies. He felt like he was getting worse at taking care of her, and that in turn she herself was getting worse. He was making her sicker, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

He buried his head into his legs, rocking back and forth, as though he could shake the despair free from his shoulders. He couldn’t do this. He was so tired, and he didn’t know how much more he was going to be able to take. He couldn’t do it, but he was the only one who would. Rika, school, RFA, Anna. There wasn’t enough time, there wasn’t enough of him to go around. There wasn’t anything left to pull together and rally at the end of each long, awful day. He should have been happy, the RFA becoming so much closer, Nicky and Saeyoung back and safe and in love, Anna feeling the same way about him that he felt about her, but the darkness inside of Rika was sucking away the light from everything else. He felt like he was cracking, like the window, big splits running down his center, getting larger every day.

What was going to happen when he finally broke apart?

No one was in the empty hallway to answer his question, so he cried in silence and prayed that he never had to find out for himself.


	77. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin is oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know everybody else in this story is riding the angst train to feels town, but Jumin has found himself on an ENTIRELY different train, my friends.

He must have had too much coffee to make his heart beat so strangely. Aleks’ hair whipped around his face in the wind, his cheeks brushed with pink. He was looking over his shoulder, smiling around the edge of his soft, white scarf. Flakes of snow stuck in the amber strands at the top of his head. Jumin felt like he wavered in the cold air, a mirage that appeared in ice rather than heat, something intangible and so far away it made his chest hurt. He felt jittery, and lost, and he thought that perhaps the coffee from the shop three blocks away was too strong, and he should not have had as much in his cup.

“Before we arrive, I should warn you I have a new roommate.” Aleks was grinning, and his breath teased the air around his lips into little clouds that rose to meet the sky. “She is very social, so don’t be afraid if she comes to say hello.”

A roommate. The concept was familiar and benign, yet he clenched his jaw in annoyance. He bristled at the idea, though he could not place why. The thought of someone sharing his space, living beneath the glory of the music that he played, seemed abhorrent. Was he so selfish that he sought to claim his talents all for his own? Had he imagined himself the only one Aleks would perform for? This graceful artist and his melodies did something to him, much like the caffeine in the rich coffee had done something to him. His throat ran dry at the thought of someone else experiencing those things in his stead, when he was trapped at work and unable to indulge his newfound appreciation of art. He was already taking more time than was appropriate to slip away for extended lunch hours to meet with Aleks. He could ill afford to take more in order to compete with some illusionary hindrance to the piano player’s time. It was, he realized, a strange reaction to have towards something so simple as a roommate.

He was brooding as they made their way through the entrance to the apartment building and into the elevator. His first instinct was to suppress whatever ridiculous feeling was prompting the change in his mood, but the therapist’s instructions echoed in his head. He made a point to acknowledge that he was experiencing something he didn’t understand, just before stuffing it back down so that he could still smile politely when Aleks glanced in his direction.

They reached the door, and Aleks tugged off his gloves with his teeth before pulling the key out of his pocket and pushing it into the lock. It was a commonplace act, the removal of the expensive navy wool from his long fingers, holding the fabric between his lips for the duration of the seconds that it took him to open the door. There was nothing at all out of the ordinary about such a thing, but Jumin couldn’t stop staring at him as he moved. Aleks plucked the gloves back out of his mouth as he gestured for Jumin to enter before him, and Jumin tried to regain his composure as he strode past the grinning pianist. It must have been the strange news that unsettled him, his blood already singing with too much energy from the coffee.

They entered, and Aleks shut the door behind them while Jumin let his eyes scan the room, pulling off his thicker coat to hang in its usual place on the wall. No one emerged from the hallway, no person lurked on the couch or by the window, in the shadows of the boiling copper glow emanating from the curved piano. The apartment seemed as still and as silent as it always was, holding its breath with bated tension as it waited for Aleks to return and begin to play.

Aleks cupped his hands around his mouth, his smile warming the syllables of his accented words. “Oy, Mishka, come meet our dear friend, Jumin.” It made him shiver when his name tumbled out with a Russian lilt. Or it was the caffeine surging in his veins. Too much coffee; it had addled his thoughts and set him off kilter. Far, far too much coffee.

Nothing in the apartment seemed to stir, and Jumin had opened his mouth to question if perhaps they were not home when he felt something brush against his legs. He looked down to see a small Himalayan cat, with eyes as green as clovers, looking up at him with curiosity as she wound herself around his ankles. Her coat was dusty ash and charcoal colored, hints of cream lurking beneath the outer layer. She moved with grace, her tail poised behind her, a brush smudged with flint grey that dangled in the air. She chirped at him, in that small way that cats did when they were full of playful interest, and Jumin’s hand flew to his chest, clutching the space above his heart as it beat erratically.

“Oh no.” Aleks voice alarmed him, and Jumin tore his eyes away from the perfect elegance at his feet, sad to see a stricken look on his artist’s face. “You dislike cats, don’t you?”

Awareness of his posture and expression came to the forefront of his mind, but he didn’t bother with words to dispel the misconception. Instead he held up his hand, a single finger extended to request a moment without wasting time on inarticulate words that failed him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and opened his photos, tapping on the album with the most pictures. He walked over to Aleks, leaning in close and holding the phone in front of both their faces, flipping to his favorite image.

“This is Elizabeth the 3rd.” He heard the pride in his voice and made no attempt to hide it. He was charmed and gratified when Aleks’ gaze widened, his face suffused with delight.

“She’s beautiful! Such clean fur!” Aleks placed his hand on the phone, pulling it closer even though Jumin did not let go. Jumin flicked to the right on the screen, pulling up another picture.

“I’ve had her since she was a small kitten.” They flipped to an image of Elizabeth resting on Jumin’s chest, both in the shot as he had scratched behind her ears. He remembered that day. It had been snowing then, too, and he had curled up with her in front of the window, watching the weather pass them by in peace. He had been happy that day, or so he had thought. He had always recalled it with fondness, a bright spot in a dreary winter. The picture told a different story. He looked hungry, or demanding, as though he were trying to draw things from the camera that it could never truly give.

Aleks made a strangled squeal in the back of his throat. “Gorgeous. Ah, and the look in her eyes. I can see how much she loves you! What a lucky cat.”

Jumin felt his cheeks burning, and he cleared his throat, standing up straighter. The Himalayan cat saved him from a proper response as she pushed her head against his legs, and he knelt down to stroke her fur to give himself something to do besides meet Aleks’ intensity.

“You said her name was Mishka? It seems fitting. Her coat is exceptional.”

Aleks laughed, and it was just as much music as the sounds he created with his fingers on the keys. “Thank you.” Mishka meowed, rubbing her nose against Jumin’s fingers. “I believe she is saying thank you for the gracious compliment.”

Jumin grinned as he stood, and the pair of them made their way over to the couch, each taking a seat in silent accord. Jumin had barely finished settling before Mishka jumped into his lap, spinning in a circle before curling herself into a ball against his stomach. He felt his mouth stretch in a broader smile as she started to purr.

“Ah.” Aleks nodded sagely as he leaned back into his seat, smirking like he was brimming with untold secrets. “You have passed the final test.”

“Test?”

“No man can be a true friend of mine until Mishka has approved.”

He laughed, feeling like gold was filling up his throat. “I’m honored. So, she isn’t new?” Jumin reached down and scratched behind her ears, an absent habit from spending time with his own beloved feline. “Where has she been?”

“Still in Russia. She had to finish getting all of her vet papers in order, and I was forced to leave her behind. Temporarily, of course, but neither of us were very happy about it.” He sounded wistful when he spoke of Russia, or perhaps he was wistful when he spoke of here. Or perhaps it was just the sound of a man with distinguished taste discussing his divine kitty companion. 

Jumin propped his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers toying with the soft suede lining. “So, you haven’t been living here long?”

“No. I moved in a few days before you began visiting my windowsill.” The musician chuckled as Jumin felt his cheeks begin to burn again. “I was accepted into the music school not far from here, and I will be completing my master’s there starting in the spring.”

Jumin sat up, his interest piqued even further. “Truly? I know a girl who attends that school.” Thought of Nicolette in the same mention of the school brought up the memories of what she was going through, and Jumin’s heart sank over how miserable she had been these last few weeks. Still refusing to let any of them do anything about it, of course, because she wouldn’t be Nicolette if she weren’t being stubborn about something, whether it was holding on to compassion or her own need to prove worth the rest of them already knew she had.

“Is something wrong?”

“Hm?” Jumin cursed his lack of grace for showing such discourteous emotions when they had nothing to do with Aleks. Still, he found that he did not mind sharing the information as much as he had feared he would, and so the explanation came easy to his lips. “Sorry. She has…she is someone that I care about very much, and it has not been easy for her at that school.” Aleks’ face fell, something indiscernible swimming in the oceans of his gaze. “Don’t be concerned. She is very resilient, so I’m sure she’ll find a way to resolve her problems in her own way.”

Aleks smiled, but it wasn’t as bright as the one he had donned a moment ago. “That is good. I wish her the very best.” Jumin didn’t understand the undertone of disappointment in his words. He didn’t understand the shift in mood, but he longed to repair it. He yearned for the right thing to say to bring the glow back to the other man’s eyes.

Aleks stood, rubbing his palms against his thighs before he grinned and waltzed over to the piano. “So, what would you like to hear today?” he sat at the bench with a flourish, hovering his hands over the keys as he watched Jumin consider the question.

“I would be pleased with anything you played.”

Pink ghosted across the artist’s face, his eyes dipping low towards the piano. He began playing, and the song was soft and slow. There was a certain somberness to it, but there was also subdued joy that carried the melody beyond what simple sadness could convey. Jumin rested his head against the back of the couch, Mishka warm in his lap, the heat of the apartment filling his bones. The music reminded him of _belonging_. Of a place to return to after a haggard day, of a place where the fire would crackle in the hearth as a cheery welcome, and there would be soft love spread through every inch of each room. It reminded him of home, but unlike any home he had ever possessed for himself. It was less a destination and more a concept; the concept of a resting place where discomfort and worry could be left at the doorstep, hung on the racks with the coats and the scarves. It was gentle, and sturdy, with arms that could spread wide to welcome whomever he could manage to fit in his heart. It was true that he had never had such a place to rest his head, but he realized as the song filled his ears and soul that it was a place he very much wanted. He longed for the peace of homeward comforts, for the bliss of a person waiting beyond the threshold of the door. Was home a place, or a person? He could not decide, but when the song concluded he knew without a doubt that he wanted both. 

He opened his eyes and looked at Aleks, gratitude on his lips, but it died before it was given voice. The musician’s gaze wavered, flickering with an ache that carried the weight of the world in the blink of an eye. It was gone before Jumin could study it, evaporating before it could be examined and understood. It was replaced with modesty, and joy, but neither went beyond the depth of his surface. They merely stood in the way, barring Jumin from whatever had been there before. He wanted to know, he wanted to understand, but even if he had the courage he would not have had the articulation to ask. Shadows were fickle things, and it seemed the more he chased them in those around him the further away they stretched.

He let them go, and bowed his head. “Bravo. It was exemplary, as usual.”

Aleks stood and threw his arm over his stomach, bending at the waist until he was nearly folded in half. “It was an honor, as always.”

Aleks’ hair dipped towards the ground, but he raised his head enough to peer at Jumin through the strands of flickering whiskey. Jumin’s breath caught in his throat, tangling in itself like errant string. There was something there, in his eyes, in his posture, in the tilt of his lips like the curve of a bow drawn across the singing cello. There was some message, some meaning, but it was being spoken in a language Jumin couldn’t understand. He wanted to reach out his hands and pass them over Aleks’ face, as though the planes of his cheek would be braille to Jumin’s blind fumbling. He had questions, so many questions that fluttered on the tip of his tongue without words to give them meaning. Half uttered prayers that would never make it to God because they were crushed by the confusion they’d been born from. He stood, rising from the couch and setting Mishka on the floor. His eyes left Aleks for a second, a mere blink as he set down the cat, but that had been enough.

By the time he was standing the message was gone, and Aleks was upright and giving him a crooked smile. “Off to work, then?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked at the floor, watching the dimmed yellow glow from the lights in the ceiling paint rivers of gold on the hardwood. “Yes, I should probably return before they start calling me.”

Aleks walked him to the door, and helped him with his coat. Jumin’s disquiet grew every time their eyes met, the hint of shadows ever-present beneath the false cheer. No, not false. It was true happiness, true generosity, but it was frail against what lay beneath. The great lie being told between them was that there was nothing there at all, both dancing around some indefinable fact that had no name. Jumin didn’t understand. He wished that he could, but he didn’t.

“Until next time, then.” Aleks shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet. He smiled, and it was the simple grin of a man who could have convinced him to stay for one more song, had he the desire to ask.

Silence hung between them for the span of two heartbeats while Jumin waited, though he could not know what for. Nothing filled it.

“Have a good day, Aleks.” He nodded his head in farewell, then walked down the hall on his own. He heard the door click shut behind him, three seconds later than it should have, a pause where he had been observed for some reason or another.

It made him feel something, but he suppressed it. He pushed it down with the rest of the day’s confusions. He would unpack them at another time. He would be able to think more clearly later. He would be able to disassemble these strange occurrences when he had calmed. When he did not have so much coffee threading through his chest.

At least, that’s what he told himself.


	78. Somehow, She Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we discuss the soul of the music.

It was worn in all the right places.

The wood was soft where her fingers had rested hundreds of thousands of times. The grain giving way to the sweet erosion of use. The neck still hummed with approval as she lifted it, placing her chin on the rest. Every time she straightened her spine and placed the bow on the strings it was like coming home. She would close her eyes and feel like she had found the place that she was supposed to be, the thing that she was supposed to do. This was what she was meant for. The universe had assembled her from atoms and stardust, random chance and biology coming together to create her shape. From the minute she had drawn her first breath, this had been her destiny, her purpose. It was not a noble one, nor was it a great one, but nothing made her soul sing like being able to play violin and feel like it was _right._

She dragged the bow across and then up, her fingers compressing and sliding along the slender neck and wound metal strings. She could feel the music in her heart, feel it pumping in her veins. She could hear the way she wanted it to sound, in the back of her mind, an image of perfection she would always strive to obtain.

Something wasn’t right.

It was her bones. It was her muscles. It was the set of her spine or the clench in her gut. The music came, the music flowed, but somewhere between her soul and her fingers it changed. It was intricate, it was technically correct, but it missed the spark of fire that she clung to whenever she played. She could feel the pieces of herself that were broken, and as the notes tried to flow over them they caught on the edges and tore. She kept playing, but she couldn’t find the heart.

_“You look so serious.”_

_She glanced at her bedroom door, her father leaning against the frame. His hair was more silver than red now, but he still had enough freckles to give away his ginger disposition._

_“Just…practicing.” She shrugged, shaking out her fingers. They had been cramping for an hour, but she’d been ignoring it._

_“That didn’t look like practice.”_

_She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that he was just waiting for her to take his bait. He was probably going to make a terrible pun again. It was his favorite past time. He didn_ _’t continue, so she finally sighed and gave in. “What did it look like, then?”_

 _He shook his head, and for once he didn_ _’t smirk at her. “Punishment.”_

_“What?”_

_He moved away from the door, walking into the room._ _“Here, stand up straight, and wield your instrument.” She did as he asked, taking a deep breath as she did so. Wield? Honestly, she had no idea where he learned such strange phrases. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling, knowing that it would only set him off and disrupt whatever point he was trying to make. He treated mirth like a contagion, one he was always willing to catch. He looked intense now, though there was still a spark of laughter glowing in his eyes. He was a man that never stopped laughing, even when he was quiet._

_“Okay, close your eyes.” She frowned at him, and he raised his eyebrows in response until relented. “Now play a single note.”_

_She did, drawing it out with a flourished vibrato towards the end. She opened her eyes, pleased with her trick, but he was chuckling and shaking his head._ _“What?”_

 _“Let’s try that again. Close your eyes, and play a_ _ single _ _note. And when you’re done, hold your pose._ _”_

_She wrinkled her nose, but obeyed the request. She played one note, without any attempt to make it anything more impressive. A single, simple tone. When it was done it felt like it floated around the room around her, hovering in the air before fading to silence. It was beautiful, in its own way. Nothing fancy, nothing extravagant. Plain and wholly necessary, a part that would blend together to make the cascading whole of a song, if she chose to play further._

_“Do you hear the difference?”_

_No, she thought, but she didn_ _’t like to be wrong. “Yes.”_

 _He chuckled again, but she didn_ _’t open her eyes yet. “I did. When you stopped trying to over think it, you could let that note be itself. Because of that, it was filled with soul, which your other note was lacking.”_

 _Now she was more curious than prideful, and she furrowed her brow, still keeping her eyes shut tight._ _“I don’t understand.”_

_“Music is not a science. It’s an art. You can learn all the technical skill that you want, but in the end the musicians that people follow, that people stand in the rain to see, the ones that move the audience to tears, those are the ones that understand the art behind it. They can listen to a song and hear its soul beneath all the notes, and they bring it to life when they perform.”_

_“How do I…”_

_“You already do. When you’re playing for fun, when you first picked up the strings and started plucking away just to see what sounds they could make. You have always known how to find the soul. You just need to remember not to lose it when you get so wrapped up in the technique. Now, play your song again, but don’t play the notes, play the_ _ song _ _._ _”_

 _She did, and this time she didn_ _’t try to place her fingers in the perfect spot, she didn’t try to run her bow along the exact position that was recommended. Instead she thought about what the song was trying to say, what it made her feel when she heard it, and she let that guide her through the notes. It felt different. It felt easier, and she felt more at peace with everything around her. She imagined that the world was breathing life into her lungs as she worked her muscles to and fro, creating sound from nothing but horsehair and steel, coiled tightly in straight lines and pressed against hollow wood. It was magic, and she was the magician, and she remembered why she loved music and could never walk away from it._

_It reminded her of the first time she had played Ode to Joy without making the violin screech. It reminded her of the first time her fingers has bled, before she had callouses, and how she had played anyways because she hated the sound when she stopped. It reminded her of the first time she had snapped a string at the end of a perfect performance. Play the song, not the notes. Such a simple thing to notice, but it changed everything about the way she played. She had forgotten in her panic over the auditions, but now she could recall it clearly._

_When she finished and looked up, he had tears in his eyes, his hand pressed over his lips._

_“Daddy?”_

_“That was perfect, Firefly. Absolutely breathtaking.” He opened his arms, and she walked into them without question, holding her violin and bow at her side awkwardly as he pressed her into a hug._

_“Daddy?”_

_“Yes, Firefly?”_

_“Why do you smell like burned potatoes?”_

_“The casserole had an unfortunate argument with the oven. I came to tell you we’re going out to dinner.”_

_“Okay.”_

She sighed as the last note of the song faded, just like the memory and the warmth of her father’s arms. It still wasn’t right. Something wasn’t lining up the way she needed it to. She could feel the song, and she could feel the emotions that she wanted to share when she played it, but every time she tried to open herself up to it, the thing she was reaching for disappeared. It was like trying to catch fog with a net. Futile and frustrating, with nothing more to show for her efforts than a sore wrist. She set her violin and bow down on the table, running her fingers along the curve of the wood.

Had she lost it? The art? Somewhere between the broken glass on the apartment floor, her heart shattering into a million shards as Saeyoung turned his back on her, Jumin falling to pieces while he tried to hold her together, bullets and death and blind terror…had her music been taken from her along the way? Maybe the soul of an artist could become tainted, and hers had been filled with too much darkness to be of any use anymore. Maybe there was a limit to how much trauma someone could see before they stopped being able to create beauty.

She plucked her brace off the table and strapped it back around her wrist. It hurt to play so much, but she was desperate to figure out what was wrong, to be able to close her eyes and play like she always had. She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated with her own melancholy. She was probably just being dramatic about everything, all her fears wasted over something as simple as a healing bone. She would keep trying, because she couldn’t help but pick her instrument up every few days to see if the magic was back, but she would also have to remind herself that healing was a process. She would allow herself to panic when her wrist was declared whole and she still couldn’t play, but until that time she needed to remember to breathe.

Everything felt stuffy, and she decided she needed air and water. She walked the short distance across the room and up the small stairwell to the door, pulling it open and heading down the hallway. She wove her way across the tiled floor and around the corner, the empty school feeling peaceful when there was no one there to glare at her, no one there to gape with unabashed curiosity. She was a spectacle no matter where she went on campus. People either hated her or gossiped about her. There was no in between. No friend that had reached back out to her to apologize, no lone soul that sought to offer compassion or empathy. The moment she stepped on campus she was alone, standing in a sea of hostility. Perhaps _that_ was the reason her music fell dead on the floor before the sound stopped echoing in her ears.

She reached the water fountain tucked along the wall, pressing the button on the side and leaning forward. She brushed her hair out of the way as she drank, and she hadn’t realized just how thirsty she had been. She tried to remember the last time she had anything to eat or drink, and the only time that came to mind was the previous evening. She could almost hear all the RFA lamenting over the realization. Somewhere they were all getting the urge to text her and inquire about her meals for the day, and they wouldn’t have the faintest idea why. She would have to go grab something soon or risk some serious side eye from Saeyoung tonight.

As though on cue her phone pinged, and she pulled it out of her pocket.

**707: ~Hello space princess~**

She smiled to herself, feeling giddy just to see his picture next to the words. She wondered if she would ever lose that rush of love and wonder whenever she thought of how much she adored him. She certainly hoped not. She unlocked her phone, leaning against the wall as she opened the RFA app and pulled up his text.

**Nicolette: ~hi~**

**Nicolette: how is everything at the hospital?**

**707: Still in the hallway :(**

**707: It** **’s killing me**

**707: to see the bandage on his head**

**Nicolette: I know, love.**

**Nicolette: it wasn** **’t your fault.**

**707: thanks**

**707: I will work hard to believe you**

**Nicolette: ^_^**

**707: what are you doing rn?**

**Nicolette: taking a small break from practice.**

**707: breaks are good**

**707: did you eat yet?**

_Crap._

**Nicolette: um, I wasn** **’t hungry?**

**707: did you forget again?**

**Nicolette: to be fair I was very busy**

**707: I** **’m going to start coming down there and making you eat**

**Nicolette: nooo >.<**

**Nicolette: you have more important things to worry about**

**707: I** **’m ALWAYS going to worry about you**

**Nicolette: *sigh* I know**

**707: don** **’t *sigh* @ me**

 **Nicolette: don** **’t @ me lol**

**707: lol**

**707: What time are you heading back tonight?**

**Nicolette: soon, I think.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m giving up on playing for the day so I’ll probably head to the bus stop in about 30**

**707: let me come get you, we can grab dinner**

**Nicolette: okay! When are you leaving?**

**707: hour? I thought I** **’d stick around until after he ate, so he wasn’t eating alone**

 **707: even if I** **’m only in the hallway**

 **Nicolette: <3 I** **’m with you in spirit**

**707: ^^**

**707: in the flesh is better**

**Nicolette: ;)**

**707: oops not what I meant**

**707: but also true~ <3**

**707: I** **’ll let you go. Go fill the halls with your incredible voice!**

**Nicolette: love you**

**707: love ya too <3**

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket, walking back to the room with a spring in her step. It was amazing how the simplest things could make her euphoric now. Something as small as dinner plans with him could make a frustrating night turn into a celebration. Now if only she could figure out how to channel all this bliss back into her music, then her whole life would be put back together.

She paused halfway down the hall, noticing the door to the practice room was open, an inch of light shining into the dim air outside of it. Had she left it that way? She couldn’t remember if she had heard the door click shut as she had left or not. She thought she had, but she could have been inventing the sound, or pulling it from one of the other memories she had of the exact same thing happening dozens of times. She was a junior, so she had probably spent more time in the practice rooms than she had at home, trying her best to give her neighbors peace. Sometimes the doors would slide back open if they weren’t locked. It wasn’t entirely unheard of for many of the practice rooms to have loose hinges or faulty latches. She was sure it had happened to her before.

So then why was she filled with dread as she looked at it?

She stepped forward, moving slowly. She felt like time had slowed around her, and then she felt silly for being so alarmed. It was nothing. Just an open door. She tried to reason with herself, but with each step closer to the room her stomach felt more like it was turning to stone, iron bars wrapping around her chest and squeezing tighter. She reached the end of the line, placing her hand on the knob, but she couldn’t push it all the way open. She felt clairvoyant, like she had risen above the moment and was watching it from afar. She didn’t know how, she didn’t understand what clues her subconscious had picked up to be able to discern what would happen, but she knew. Somehow, she knew. She knew exactly what she would find when she opened the door, and so she didn’t move. She wanted to live in the moment before she confirmed it. She wanted to stay on this side of truth, where she could tell herself she was ridiculous, where she could still cling to some far-fetched hope that she was only having another panic attack, and that this too would pass like the snow-filled clouds filling December.

She closed her eyes and opened the door.

When she opened them there were already tears, but she blinked them away so she could force herself to see the awful reality. There it was, not in black and white but full color, vivid and real, a tableau of the hatred that this school held for her and her feeble attempts to follow her dreams.

_“I have something for you, Firefly.”_

_He was grinning again, which made him look so much less exhausted than he had of late. He hadn_ _’t been home much, which meant a lot less burned casseroles, but it also equated to an empty home._

_“Oh? Did I do something good and forgot about it?” she rolled off her bed, her socks scuffing across the carpet as she ran to give him a hug. He didn’t move his arms, and she knew he was holding whatever it was in his hands, hiding it from her so that he could have his big reveal. His smile grew wider, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek._

_“I just…I know you got the news weeks ago, but it took me a little more time to get things ready. I wanted you to know how proud I am that you got into that school.”_

_“Daddy.” Her heart felt like it was filled with joy, even though she was scolding him. “You’ve already said it like, a thousand times._

_“And I would like to say it a thousand more, but perhaps this will suffice.” He brought his arms to the front, and in his hands he held a beautiful violin case, the silver latches polished to a fine sheen._

_“What? But…But I have a violin.” She felt stupid even as she said it, but it was true. She hadn’t been expecting this. He already worked so often, especially when she had needed help paying the registration fees for her school. There was no way this had been easy for him to afford after everything else he had done._

_“You have a cheap student’s toy. I want you to have something worthy of your talent.” He opened the latches on her behalf, lifting the lid to reveal the most beautiful instrument she had ever seen, resting on the midnight colored velvet within. It was stained a deep cherry, the wood carved with curves that were a silent music of their own. It hummed the moment the air touched it, the strings alive and waiting to be manipulated by someone that would understand how. If songs had a soul, then this instrument was a god, created to control them and give them life with the flick of a bow._

_She swallowed, her hand against the base of her throat. She wanted to say thanks, to tell him how beautiful it was, but she couldn_ _’t speak. She could feel tears in the corners of her eyes, and she tried to blink them away, but more flooded after._

 _He lifted it out of the case, holding it out to her, fumbling with the bow a bit before he could get everything facing the right direction._ _“Will you play it? I know it’s a little impromptu, but I need to hear you play it.”_

 _She nodded, taking it from him. The wood felt alive, the strings like raw power, the bow the brisk wind in a wild horse_ _’s mane. She placed her chin on the rest, inhaling the oaken smell of a violin unlike any she had ever held before. Her fingers arced around the bow, and she lifted her elbow to hold it at the very end, then pulled it across the strings, slowly. The sound made her shiver._

 _She played for him, and she chose the first song that she had ever had a solo in. She picked it because she knew that it was his favorite, and it had made him burst in to tears when he had watched her play on the stage for the first time. He had been to every single one of her recitals since then, and while he didn_ _’t always cry, he was always smiling. When the song ended they both had tears in their eyes, and she rushed into his arms._

_“Daddy, it’s perfect, thank you so much. I promise, I’ll put it to good use. I’ll make it up to you by being the best damn violinist at that whole school.”_

_He pulled back, taking her chin between his fingers so that he could tilt her face up._ _“You already are.”_

He made to her high school graduation before he passed away. He never got to see her play in college. She had sworn she would never play with another violin until the one he gave her crumbled to dust between her fingers, because maybe if she kept using it he would still be able to hear her, from wherever he had gone.

It wasn’t dust, it was splinters. Scattered across the floor. She walked into the room, stepping over pieces of it, her eyes wide and unblinking. There was nothing left. No hope of salvation. It couldn’t be real. The last thing her father had ever given her was destroyed, the one thing she had left that still felt like him. The strings were snapped and coiled on the floor, and they rolled beneath her feet. She sank to her knees, picking up the only shred of wood that was still resembled the carved masterpiece that had been smashed against the floor. Someone had taken a marker and written “LIAR” across it. As if she wouldn’t have gotten the point without it. As though leaving that one piece intact had been more grace than they had been willing to give her. They had slipped into the soundproof room and taken something from her that could never be returned, and they had labeled her with slurs to make sure she understood the malice, the hatred, the need to drive her away.

She cradled it to her chest anyways, the sharp edges of the desecrated wood slicing into her fingers. She cried, and the sobs ripped through her so hard that they didn’t make any sound. She wasn’t breathing, so her chest was heaving for no purpose, her mouth falling open and closed, as quiet as her violin would forever be. Tears streamed from her, falling to the floor, spilling on the tile and the cedar and the bits of her life that kept getting ruined. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.

She found air, and she found her voice, and there was only one thing she could use it to say.

_“Daddy.”_

She lost herself to her grief. She mourned the loss of her father anew, as though he had just died in front of her again, a quiet brain tumor leeching the light out of his eyes in a matter of weeks. The silence had been the worst part, the stillness in the air when he had stopped breathing. The silence again was what tore through her, the forced stillness of an instrument that she had always felt was a living, breathing part of her life. It had been a beating heart, and someone had ripped it to shreds.

_Liar._

Point taken. Message received. She didn’t belong here. She had never belonged. She had always been lying to herself, to think that she could become something so inspired. Her talent had only stretched as far as her father’s love, and that was gone now. Ever since she had arrived at this school, everyone around her had made it painfully clear that she was unwelcome. That she was not one of them. Even before her professor had stuck his tongue down her throat, some of the other teachers had treated her like an unsavory creature. Mrs. Capalli had been her violin coach, and she had hated her from day one. She had never had enough talent to study under her, and her professor had known that. She had sniffed the fear off her immediately, and her futile attempts to improve had only served to irritate her further. Nicky had been determined, but where had that gotten her?

Broken. It had broken her. It had broken her heart, her spirit, her calm, and now her violin. She was as fractured as the wood, as ripped as the strings. She was done, and there was no point in pretending any longer. She was not meant for music.

Her phone chimed in her pocket, but she ignored it. She curled into a ball, laying in the gruesome remains of her pride, crying and struggling to breathe around the death grip that the shadows had on her heart.


	79. The Emotional Side Effects of Surviving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeyoung finds Nicky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me tooth and nail. I have no idea why, but it was so frustratingly slow to write it. I apologize for any dip in quality but I am so done looking at it that this is the best I could do. I'll try to do better next chapter! ^^

He leaned against the car, standing in the parking lot and looking at the door to the building. His shoulder throbbed from having his arm loose to drive, but he was ignoring the faint pangs because he was so sick of the sling he felt like it was suffocating him every time he put it back on. His arm was still more like a foam noodle attached to his torso than an actual working limb, but he had enough dexterity to drive, or wrap it around Nicky, and those were the things that counted anyways.

He clicked the side of his phone, turning the screen back on. It had been ten minutes since he had told her he was almost there, and she hadn’t sent back a reply. She had said she was going to work on a song, but it wasn’t like her to lose track of time when it came to plans with other people. She would forget to take care of herself constantly, but when it came to those around her she never forgot a thing. He hadn’t known her for very long, in the grand scheme of things, but he felt like he knew her better than he should have given the amount of time they had been together. It was one of the perks of being meant for each other, he supposed. Or at least the perk of her being meant for him. He still couldn’t say that he thought he was the best thing out there for _her_ , but he was sure as hell going to do his best to try to be that, because he was never letting her go.

Ten minutes was not a long time, but it was long enough to make him nervous, so he pushed himself away from the car and headed towards the building. The campus was empty, so his footsteps felt louder than they normally would have. The semester was winding down, most students already half lost to Christmas break, and it seemed to him that Nicky was the only one that was still exhausting herself trying to get things done. There was only one other guy on the cold grounds besides himself, and he was on the other side of the broad pathway cut down the center of the space between the buildings, shoulders hunched beneath a massive coat. He looked like some kind of spy from a noir film, and Saeyoung smirked because he knew movies were bullshit, and nothing about spies ever looked like that in real life. Whoever it was seemed to be in a hurry, though, and he imagined that he was rushing off to get revenge on some old partner that had betrayed him in a setup. That was how the movies went, right? Then, in the end, the other guy always got his just deserves. It was better when stories had such a simple conclusion. Nobody in the movies ever had to worry about the emotional side effects of surviving. 

He turned his gaze back to the building in front of him. It was one of the shabbier structures on the campus, and Nicky had told him it was the oldest. There was moss growing along the edges of the thatched roof, cracks and divots along the concrete walls, and some of the windows looked like they had been covered with ancient pillows. Nicky said it had something to do with soundproofing, and he wondered how much sound a pillow could silence.

He reached the door and pulled it open, peering inside at the empty, darkened hallway. He didn’t really want to go in, because he didn’t feel like he belonged. This school wasn’t nicer than the one he had gone to, but his had been full of computers and books, while hers had art and beauty. It was a different world, and he didn’t feel like he was supposed to intrude on it. The only time it felt okay was when she was with him, because she always managed to make him feel like he belonged.

He didn’t see any signs that anyone was in the building, so he pulled the door open further and slipped inside. It shut behind him, closing off the cold air so that the meager heating could be put to work warming his frozen nose. He sniffed, his glasses rising up and down on his face as he did so, and then he walked down the hall trying to look for some sign of his tardy girlfriend. He’d been there a couple of times when dropping her off, so he was a little familiar with the layout. He knew this particular building was full of practice rooms, and that if she had the door closed to perform he wouldn’t be able to hear her from the outside.

Or he shouldn’t have. When he heard a sound down the hallway to the left he stopped, tilting his head to listen again. It was muffled but still managed to echo, and he knew without a doubt it had been Nicky. He had heard the sound before, more times than he would have ever wanted, and his heart sank to hear it again. Another sob floated down the hall, and he picked up his feet and ran towards it, praying that it would turn out to be anything other than her crying. She had cried enough. She deserved to never have to cry again.

The door was open, and he could see her curled up on the floor in a whirlwind of destroyed violin, holding herself and choking on her own stuttered breath. He ran to her, sliding on his knees and scooping her up into his arms, pulling her to his chest. She wrapped herself around his middle, burying her face against him, shaking so hard that he was afraid she would break apart. Like her violin. Her pretty, worn out because of overuse, cherished beyond its worth, badge of pride and love violin.

“Nicky, what happened?” she cried harder, and he pressed his palm up and down along her spine, trying to still her trembling. “Shh, I’m so sorry baby. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t think of what else to say. He knew that the violin had been from her father, and he knew that her father was dead, and he didn’t really need to know any other details to understand that this was crushing her.

She cried, inarticulate and heartbroken, for an hour. She was inconsolable for sixty full minutes, and there wasn’t a thing that he could do about it. He held her, and his heart broke on her behalf, and then it submerged itself into a pit of burning rage, erupting from the other side as hardened steel. This was too much. This was several thousand steps too far, and he would not stand for it any longer. She hadn’t deserved a single bad thing that had happened to her, and yet the world seemed intent to damage her further. Had she not paid her dues when she had bled in his arms? Had she not paid her dues when she had held them at the funeral of a man that almost blew her up? Had she not paid more dues than any one person should have been asked to? What was the point? What was the purpose? She had said once that she believed everything happened for a reason, but this was senseless cruelty. This could serve no purpose, other than pain.

When she could speak again he would find out what happened, and he would make those responsible pay.

She finally raised her head, wiping her eyes, so red they were glowing with grief. “I only stepped out of the room for a minute.”

He placed his hands on either side of her face, rubbing his thumbs along the top of her cheeks. “Did you see anyone? Nobody coming or going?” she shook her head miserably, then held out a small fragment of wood she had been clutching with the word “LIAR” scrawled across it in angry letters. He clenched his jaw. “What about cameras? There are cameras at this school, right?”

“Not in this building.” She sniffed, rubbing at her nose with fingers that looked like they were full of splinters. “The cameras are only in the newer practice hall, and I don’t use that one because…well, you know.” She shrugged, and she didn’t have to finish the thought. She didn’t use the one where she had been assaulted, because nobody in their right mind would have.

Damn. That was not what he wanted to hear. “Do you have any idea who did it?”

She shrugged. “I could guess, but I couldn’t prove anything.” She pulled away from him, leaning over to try and scoop up the remains of the violin. There were tears still streaming out of her eyes, and he wondered how long a person could cry before they dissolved. He moved to help her, and they worked together in silence until they had all the pieces piled on the table, a chaotic mesh of wood, plastic, and strings. It no longer looked anything like the mastercraft instrument it had once been. She stared at it, morose, and he wished that he could find the person that had done this and wipe them off the face of the planet.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. “Come, let’s get you out of here. Do you want to take it with us?”

She extended her hand, reaching for it, but didn’t touch it, pulling back before she even came close. “No. It’s gone now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She looked at him and smiled, tears like trails of comets down her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter.”

He grabbed her, holding her as tight as he could manage. “Of course it matters. Don’t say that.”

“No, it doesn’t, because I give up. I can’t do it anymore. It just gets worse and worse, and I couldn’t even play well before and now I’ve lost the one thing I had left of him.”

He tilted her chin up so that she had to look at him. “Hey, hey. Look at me, okay?” she did, the green in her eyes like rain soaked leaves. “You are one of the most talented people I have ever met. You deserve to do what you’ve always dreamed of doing. Don’t let them take this from you. Don’t let them win.”

“I’m not strong enough for this.” She shook her head, her hair swaying back and forth. “I know you just want to be supportive, but I -”

He kissed her, to stop the tirade, but he kept it quick and light. “Nicky, you took a _bullet_ to try and protect people you cared about. You are the strongest woman I know. You just need to start fighting for yourself as hard as you fight for the rest of us.”

“I know you’re only saying that because you feel like you have to, but you don’t need to coddle me just because we’re together.”

It astounded him that she meant what she was saying, and that she believed he would lie. He had omitted the truth before, and he had outright lied exactly once, and he was never going to make that mistake again. Still, he could see it in her eyes that she wouldn’t believe him. He could tell that, because she knew how much he loved her, she would think anything he said was spoken through that filter. As though she had forgotten that her singing had swept him off his feet. As though she had forgotten that the one thing he requested when he thought he was going to die in a dungeon was to hear her make music. It was frustrating how little she valued her abilities, and he wished that he had a way to show her that she was worth so much more than she thought.

He scrubbed his hand over his face, an idea blooming in his head. “Here, sit.” He grabbed her shoulders and led her over to one of the chairs sitting against the wall, pushing her downward until she was seated. He fished his phone out of his pocket, clicking on the screen.

“What -”

“Sh.” He waved a free hand at her as he flipped through to the RFA app. “Sit, and contemplate exactly how much I love you, my lovely, talented, vexing, and stubborn space princess.” He glanced at her over the top of his phone, and even though she was miserable she still blushed, and he loved that she was capable of such contradictions.

He looked at the chatroom and saw that everyone but Jumin was already present, so he logged in himself.

****

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: Yo Jaehee, call Jumin and tell him we need him**

**Jaehee: -_- I was just about to log out**

**ZEN: Why do you need Jumin?**

**707: I** **’ll explain when he gets here**

**707: it** **’s important**

**707: and about Nicky**

**Yoosung: Is she okay?**

**707: nope**

**707: I mean physically she** **’s fine**

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: Just get Jumin**

**707: oh, hi Jumin**

**Jumin: What** **’s wrong?**

**707: Someone from Nicky** **’s school smashed her violin**

**707: she stepped out of the room for a minute**

**707: and it was completely destroyed when she got back**

**Yoosung: What?!**

**ZEN: Didn** **’t she say that was a gift?**

**707: Yes. From her father.**

**Jaehee: Didn** **’t he pass away?**

**ZEN: yeah** **…**

**Jumin: Unacceptable.**

**Jumin: I want to know who. Immediately.**

**707: We don** **’t know, she didn’t see anything, there’s no evidence**

**707: But that** **’s not the problem right now**

**Jumin: The hell it isn** **’t.**

**Jumin: I will see that the school is de-funded and ruined if they do not find the culprits.**

**707: Later, Jumin**

**707: Right now I need everybody** **’s help**

**Yoosung: ??**

**707: She wants to quit school.**

**ZEN: What?!**

**Yoosung: but she loves music!**

**707: She won** **’t listen to me because she knows I love her**

**707: so I need you guys to tell her all the reasons**

**707: why she shouldn** **’t give up**

**707: give me a sec, I** **’m having her log in**

He looked up from his phone, and she had already taken her own out, her finger tracing circles around the button on the bottom of the screen.

“Okay, log in.”

“Saeyoung, I just want to -”

“Please?” he walked over to sit next to her in the adjacent seat. She looked at him and sighed, turning her phone on and opening the app. “Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed her temple, her hair smelling of tears and sorrow that had not yet abated.

****

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: NICKY.**

**Yoosung: are you okay?!**

Saeyoung watched as she scrolled through the above conversation, rolling her eyes at the things he had said.

**Nicolette: Look, I know what you** **’re going to say**

**ZEN: Nope.**

**ZEN: Be quiet.**

**ZEN: Let me talk, and then you can talk.**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t want to hear it.**

**Nicolette: I just lost the one thing I owned that was important to me.**

**Nicolette: The last thing my father gave me before he died.**

**Nicolette: My stupid dream wasn** **’t worth it.**

**Nicolette: I wish I had never come to this school.**

**Yoosung: Don** **’t say that!**

**Yoosung: You told me that you worked really hard to get in.**

**ZEN: Nicky, listen**

**Nicolette: No, you listen.**

**Nicolette: I was never cut out for it. It always took so much effort to keep up.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m not like you, Zen.**

**Nicolette: I don** **’t have a natural gift.**

**Jumin: Please, stop.**

**ZEN: Listen, everything you just said was bullshit.**

**ZEN:** **“natural talent” is 90% hard work in the first place**

**ZEN: and you KNOW that I work my ass off to get where I am**

**ZEN: You worked really hard to get where you are, too**

**ZEN: I knew that before we even started talking about music**

**ZEN: I could tell just by watching that video Saeyoung sent**

**ZEN: and I could tell that you loved what you were doing**

**ZEN:but more than that**

**ZEN: You were damn good at it**

**ZEN: Good enough that I got jealous**

**ZEN: And I** **’m not dating you, so I’m not just trying to make you feel better**

**ZEN: Big brothers aren** **’t supposed to lie like that**

**ZEN: And I know about music, so I** **’m not just uninformed**

**ZEN: You CANNOT let these stupid, petty girls get the best of you**

**ZEN: and let them keep you from doing what you were clearly born to do**

**ZEN: Not because it came natural**

**ZEN: But because you worked at it constantly, because it was the only thing you wanted to do**

She had tears streaming down her face again, her skin splotchy and glowing, but he could tell there were bits of sunlight breaking through the storm. He rubbed his hand along her shoulders, providing what little support he could offer. It wasn’t enough, but she wouldn’t take his words, and he had to give her something.

**Nicolette: I still can** **’t do it.**

**Yoosung: Yes, you can!**

**Yoosung: We can help you!**

**Jaehee: I don** **’t think you should sell yourself short.**

**Nicolette: I** **’ll just play music on my own.**

**Nicolette: I can major in something else, somewhere else.**

Her sobs were coming quicker now, and he could tell that she hated the idea even as she tried to convince herself that she had to be happy about it, because she thought it was her only option.

**Jumin: No, I refuse to allow that.**

**Nicolette: It** **’s not your decision.**

**Jumin: I forbid it.**

**Nicolette: You can** **’t forbid me to do anything.**

**ZEN: No, screw that.**

**ZEN: We** **’re putting it to to a vote.**

**ZEN: An RFA vote.**

**Jumin: I agree. We will be democratic.**

**Nicolette: you can** **’t vote on things that don’t affect you!**

**Jumin: How does everyone stand in regards to Nicky giving up her dreams?**

**Yoosung: AGAINST.**

**ZEN: Against.**

**Jaehee: Against.**

**707: FIRMLY against.**

**Jumin: Also firmly against.**

**Yoosung: Vanderwood isn** **’t here lol she needs to vote too**

**707: one sec**

He flipped out of the chat for a second and over to Vanderwood’s contact information.

**707: Bastards at Nicky** **’s school smashed her violin and now she wants to give up and quit. Log in to the chatroom and type “against” real quick.**

He immediately flipped back to the chatroom.

**707: Abraca-MOM!!!**

**_Mom has entered the chatroom._ **

**Mom: I swear to god I will come down there and cut their heads off with rusty cutlery**

**707: LOL just say for or against**

**Mom: AGAINST.**

**Jumin: Nicolette, even if you vote in favor**

**Jumin: You will not have a majority.**

**Jumin: It is unanimous among the rest of us that you should continue pursuing your dreams.**

Her phone slipped out of her fingers, tumbling into her lap. Her eyes were wide, filled with tears, her lower lip shaking as she clutched her hands to her chest.

**707: hang on, give her a minute**

“See, I’m not just saying it because I love you. I’m saying it because it’s true. You shouldn’t have to give up your dreams because of this. I…I didn’t know your father, but if he was the kind of man that would give you that violin, then he was probably the kind of man that would tell you that you should do what you love. No matter what.”

She collapsed into his arms, and this time the sobs were not of despair, but release. She let go of the anger and the pain, crying it into his chest, and he held it all for her. He would always hold it all, as much as he could, because she had done the same for him. She erased his shadows with every smile that blessed her lips, and he would do whatever he could to return the favor.

She sniffled, looking up at him with eyes that were shining again. “Thank you. Thank you for believing in me.”

“Forever, space princess. I’m gonna believe in you forever.” He dipped his head, claiming her lips, and through the bitter salt of her grief he could still taste the girl that could make music sweet enough to bring down the stars.

She sighed, breaking the kiss to swipe at her eyes again before she retrieved her phone, and he followed suit.

**Yoosung: is she okay?**

**ZEN: Of course not!**

**Jumin: Has she listened?**

**ZEN: Seriously, jerk, just give her a minute!**

**Jumin: How am I a jerk for showing concern?**

**ZEN: You just want to see if she** **’ll do what you say**

**Nicolette: Stop fighting**

**Yoosung: YOU** **’RE BACK**

**707: ^^**

**Nicolette: Well, since it was an official vote**

**Nicolette: I suppose that I will have to listen**

**707: ^_^**

**Nicolette: Zen?**

**ZEN: Yeah?**

**Nicolette: Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.**

**ZEN: Damn right.**

**ZEN: Anybody ever tries to tell you different has to answer to me**

**Jaehee: please do not get punched in the face again**

**Yoosung: lololol**

**ZEN: BLAME JUMIN, NOT ME**

**707: lololol he has a point**

**Nicolette: how about nobody in the RFA punches anyone else in the RFA ever again?**

**Mom: No promises.**

**Yoosung: T_T**

**Nicolette: okay nobody gets to do any punching but Mom**

**Mom: stop calling me that!!!**

**707: but moooooooooom**

**Mom: I am going to punch you immediately the next time I see you**

**707: lol time to go**

**707: bai**

He logged out, putting his phone to sleep as Nicky laughed at the reactions he must have left behind. He didn’t care if Vanderwood _did_ punch him, at least he had been able to get a real smile out of Nicky because of it. She typed her own farewells and then put her phone in her pocket, wiping her eyes yet again to rid herself of the residual tears.

She took a deep breath, looking at him with a starlit gaze. “I love you. So much.”

“Love you too. Now come on, we need to get you something to eat and a good night’s sleep.” He stood, holding his hand out to her. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet and against his chest, drawing her into a long, slow kiss that was meant to sweep her away, except it stole his breath and stopped his heart before he had a chance. How could he be the smooth one when she made his head spin with everything she did? He released her, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek before she started walking towards the door, and he trailed after her, reaching for her hand as she lead the way. She paused before leaving, turning back to look at the ruined violin resting on the table. She would grieve it for some time, but she no longer looked like she would give into that grief, and he was thankful for that. She smiled, soft and subtle, wistful as her lips tilted upward. “My father would have loved you.”

He was surprised that the admission brought tears to his eyes, and he had to blink them away quickly as she turned back to face him. He couldn’t say anything, because he had no words to express how happy the thought made him. To think that he could be the type of man parents would want to meet. That her father might have accepted him as the man that loved his daughter. Saeyoung had never thought about it before, but now that she had put it in his head he hoped desperately that it was true. He wanted to be that worthy of her. He wanted to be the kind of guy that could slip a ring on her finger and celebrate their love with all the world.

Someday. Someday he would pray, and ask God to convey his intentions to wherever Nicky’s father had gone. Hopefully they could still receive his blessing. Hopefully, wherever he was, her father could look over her and be proud of who she was and all that she had done. Saeyoung certainly was.

_Never stop fighting, space princess._

 


	80. Not Improvement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeyoung spends another day outside Saeran's hospital room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late!!! Life got a little distracting there, but I will try to have an extra one out later tonight to make up for it. ;)

He was a hundred different kinds of exhausted, but he still dragged himself out of bed, feet shivering as they contacted the cold floor. Even the carpet felt frozen. He glanced behind him, Nicky still curled under the blankets, her arm reaching across to his side of the bed, curved the same way it had been when it was thrown over him. It would be so easy to lay back down, to sleep in with her on the day off that she had taken to recover from the previous night. The corners of her eyes were red from all the tears she had shed, but she looked beautiful to him. He wanted to slide next to her and tattoo his love across her skin with his lips, but he resisted the urge.

He left the bed and tiptoed quietly across the apartment, getting dressed and making as little noise as possible. He was trying not to wake her. She deserved as many hours of sleep as she could manage, since she had been up very late. As it turned out, the day’s trauma had kicked off a nasty bout of insomnia, and she had found it impossible to drift off. He had held her, keeping his eyes open with as much willpower as he could consume, until finally her breathing had evened out against his chest and she had rested for the night. Her warmth chased him into his own dreams, where he returned to that old standby of the picnic in the sun, all their makeshift family surrounding them. There were more people there this time, which made him happy. Saeran was there, too, holding a little girl with curly red hair that had Saeyoung’s nose and Nicky’s eyes. Both were smiling.

Saeyoung hadn’t wanted to wake up.

He finished lacing his shoes and grabbed his jacket off the wall. He shucked it onto his shoulders and fished the keys out of the pocket, heading towards the door when he heard the soft footsteps in the hallway. He turned to see her standing outside of the bedroom, wearing one of his shirt's and rubbing her eyes, still more than half asleep. 

“Mmm. You didn’t think you could just slip out without saying goodbye, did you?” her throat was raspy from dreams, and he had no words to express just how much he adored her first thing in the morning. He closed the distance between them, scooping her into his arms and spinning her around, which pulled a laugh out of her chest. He kissed her, morning breath and all, and she melted into him.

When he pulled back he wished that he could return to bed, and he had to summon the deepest remnants of his resolve to keep from doing so. “Sorry, I wanted to let you sleep in.”

She grinned, drunk from sleep still so that her lips were off kilter. “Hmm. You should always wake me before you go. I would have missed you.”

He buried his face in the side of her neck, breathing in her warmth. “Anything you say, just stop humming or I’m never going to make it to the hospital.”

“Sorry, love.” She kissed his temple before letting him go, taking a step back to stretch, standing on her tiptoes. The hem of the shirt rose, and he closed his eyes, wondering both what he could have possibly done to deserve her _and_ what he could have done to deserve such torturous temptation when he had other places that he needed to be.

He grabbed her and kissed her one last time, savoring the gasp of surprise that she spilled against his lips, relishing the way she arched her back when he pressed his fingers into the base of her spine. He released her, as reluctant as he could possibly be, but he couldn’t keep from grinning at the blush across her cheeks, despite his disappointment.

“Will you be okay today? You don’t need anything?”

She waved at him, shooing him towards the door and wrinkling her nose. “I’ll be fine, I can pester Zen if I need somebody to talk to. Go, be with your brother, and send him my love if you can.”

“Thanks, babe.” He jangled the keys in his hand, grinning at her. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She blew him a kiss before shuffling back towards the direction of the bed, and he watched her walk away until her sleep ruffled form disappeared from his sight. He smiled to himself, feeling warmth flood through him knowing that she would be here when he returned. Then he sighed and opened the door, stepping into the hall and out to begin his day.

His mood slipped into melancholy as he drove to the hospital. It was much easier to return to his unwelcome brotherly duties after he had dropped Nicky off at school than it was on days like today, where he knew that if things were different he could be spending more time with her. Instead he was heading into the over-lit, sterile hallway where he would be forced to sit with the weight of his mistakes glaring at him through the closed door. From the love of his life to the hatred of his brother, two halves of his life opposed in their very natures. He was a swinging pendulum that wobbled wrong in the middle of the arc, and he wished there was a way to find some kind of balance.

The sky was grey again today, and he sighed into it as he stepped out of the car. There was still a dusting of white crust on the ground from the last snow, and it looked like today would bring more. He’d lost track of what season it was for a few weeks there, so caught up in all the other details of his life that the weather had seemed unimportant. He remembered the rain at the cabin, and how it had drummed against the roof when they had lain in bed together. He remembered the autumn leaves had been heavy in the trees as he had watched Nicky miss a tin can with a good third of the ammunition they had. There weren’t any leaves left on the trees now. They had all fallen away sometime between ‘I love you’ and ‘Don’t give up your dreams’. The temperature was as low as his brother’s spirits now. He should have brought a thicker jacket.

He didn’t have to do anything more than wave to the receptionist as he walked into the building, the perpetually irritated woman glancing up and then back down without much interest. He made his way through the halls to the quiet corner where they had stuffed the ‘problem patient’, hoping that if they didn’t have to look at him maybe he wouldn’t be so difficult for them to face. Saeyoung had been surprised to learn that doctors and nurses only had so much patience. They seemed to get irritated after a while when someone didn’t get magically better. People focused on healing weren’t as compassionate as he had been led to believe.

He reached the room, and opened the door, peering around the edge. “Hey.” He didn’t receive a greeting in return, his brother flinching away from his voice and turning from him. He was staring out the window again, just like he always did. He looked angry that the sky was grey. Or maybe he looked angry that Saeyoung had arrived. He wasn’t sure it even mattered anymore. “I’ll be right outside, if you need me.”

He withdrew, closing the door, taking one last glance at the unchanging scene through the window before he flopped into his customary chair. He didn’t immediately pull out his phone, instead leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. It felt like things were slowly rolling backwards. There had been a single moment where his brother and he had reached an accord. He remembered it clearly, because he couldn’t get it out of his head. They had locked eyes and agreed on one single thing, which had been Nicky. Through all the strange happenings that had wrecked their lives, they still shared that one thread. Both cared about her. In different ways, on different levels, but it was still genuine. Rika had tried to tear that away from them, but in the end Saeran had still cared. He hadn’t consciously noticed it at the time, but when he replayed the moment Nicky had almost died over in his head - which he did far too often, reliving his worst nightmare in an involuntary loop - he noticed things that he hadn’t the first time. He could remember Saeran looking at Nicky, the blood spilling from her stomach before he fell to the floor. Rika had tried to make them hate her, to abandon her. She had tried to destroy Nicky and make her suffer. Still, in the end, they had all stood by her side. Even Jumin had refused to take part in the breaking of their friend.

He was tempted, over and over again, to bring Nicky back. To see if she would be able to talk to him when the rest of them couldn’t. He retreated from the therapist more every day, was becoming more prone to fits of violence and anger, aggressive towards even the nurses. The doctors didn’t give a shit if he got better or rotted to death in his bed at this point, and the therapist was starting to leave in a huff, her heels clicking against the floor as she stalked back down the hall. Saeyoung definitely made things worse, but everyone kept telling him he needed to stick around, that it was important that he stay no matter how many times he was told that he was unwanted. Unwanted and hated, the only things his brother ever told him. Saeran really had become their mother.

He couldn’t bring himself to drag Nicky back. He talked to her about how awful things were going, but he didn’t want her to have to experience them first hand. She still cared about Saeran, and he was afraid if she showed up and Saeran was hostile, then that care would fade. Saeyoung wouldn’t be able to survive if Saeran turned out to be the one person Nicky could form a grudge against. Plus it was dangerous. Saeran had tried to hurt her last time she had been here, and there was nothing in this world worth risking her life for. He wasn’t even willing to put her in the path of pain, although she seemed adept at doing that by herself.

Something crinkly and soft dropped out of nowhere and landed on his face, and he yelped as he was yanked out of his reverie. Whatever it was slid down and fell into his hands, and he sat up to find himself staring at small bag of donuts. With sprinkles. Rainbow sprinkles. His stomach growled, and he remembered that he hadn’t eaten a damn thing before he had left the house because he had been too busy ogling his girlfriend’s ass.

“Thought you might be here.” The voice was smug and somewhat lyrical, and Saeyoung knew who he would find before he even turned. Zen smiled as he strolled down the hall, Jaehee half a step behind him, proficient enough on her crutches that she no longer wobbled. “Thought you might be hungry.”

His stomach growled, loud enough that the pair of them could hear it, and they laughed. “Yeah, I might have been a bit too preoccupied to grab breakfast.” Zen frowned, and Saeyoung could already hear him grumbling about chastity, so he turned his attention to Jaehee, smiling broadly. “Morning, Kang. How’s the leg?”

“Ask me again in an hour.” She smiled, but he could see her irritation, her gaze sullen.

Zen rolled his eyes. “If she actually starts listening to the doctors she could be off the crutches by next Friday.”

“I _could_ be off them now. I can walk across the room with very little assistance now.” She scowled, but her expression melted into one of unadulterated joy as Zen leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“It’s only another week, you can push through.”

Saeyoung had never seen her blush before, or giggle, but she did both. “Probably. Still, it’s another week of work on crutches.”

“You could always ask the jerkface for more time off.”

“I don’t _want_ to take any more time off. I do value my job, you know.” She smirked at Zen before shifting so she could look at Saeyoung. “How is he today?”

She didn’t have to specify which ‘he’ she had meant. Nobody ever had to specify. “Pretty much the same.” He was thankful that they were courteous enough not to try and peer through the window.

“He’ll get there.” Zen flashed a dazzling grin, one of his ‘actor’ grins, in an attempt to be as positive as possible. Saeyoung appreciated the sentiment, but he knew that Zen only smiled like that around them when he was worried. Which only served to remind him how worried he was, himself. “How’s Nicky?”

“Better. She only had one class today, so she decided to skip it to stay home and relax.”

Zen frowned. “How bad was it? The damage to the violin, I mean.”

“Total. There was nothing left but splinters.”

“That’s awful.” Jaehee shook her head. “Has she reported the incident?”

Now it was Saeyoung’s turn to frown, and he dragged his fingers through his hair in irritation. “No. She doesn’t think it will do any good, since there’s no way to prove who did it.”

“You sound like you tried to convince her otherwise.” Zen quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Of _course_ I did. Though she has a point. Reporting it would just make the campus make a bunch of announcements, then everyone would know about it. She wants to lay low, and I can respect that.”

“Then she won’t be leaving the school?” Jaehee sounded relieved at the idea, and Saeyoung was grateful for their support. He might have still been able to convince Nicky not to give up her dreams without their help, but it would have been a lot harder.

“Nope, she’s definitely staying. Thank you for your help with that, by the way.”

Zen scowled. “Don’t mention it. She has way too much passion to give up. If anybody deserves a career in music, it’s her.” He fell silent for a moment, brooding, but then he seemed to shake it off, and shared another luminous smile with them. “Oh, by the way, the play I’ve been rehearsing for is going to be opening on the nineteenth. The director is giving me a handful of tickets, so I thought maybe you guys might want to come?”

“Nineteenth? I think my surgery is supposed to be then, but I can have them plan it for the evening.” Saeyoung reached into the bag in his lap, pulling out a donut and taking a massive bite before he answered. “Sure, we’ll go. I’m pretty sure Nicky will be into that.” He grinned, and he knew that there were sprinkles stuck to the side of his face, but he made no move to wipe them away.

Jaehee rolled her eyes, but Zen looked thrilled. “Really? I mean, good. I’ll get you the tickets as soon as I can.”

“Sounds good.” He took another bite of the donut, getting frosting all over his fingers.

“We should get going before we’re late to the appointment.” Jaehee smiled down at him. “Enjoy your breakfast, Saeyoung. Let us know if you need anything, we can always take care of it after my physical therapy.”

He waved off the offer. “Go, go. Don’t worry about me, I’ve got a routine down pat at this point.”

They turned, waving goodbye as they went, and he finished the last of his donut as he watched them go. He wrapped the second one up in the bag, standing from his seat and moving to the door to Saeran’s room. He knocked, although it wouldn’t have mattered either way, then turned the handle and pushed inward. His brother didn’t look at him as he walked across the room. He set the back on the edge of his bed, where he could reach it.

“Zen and Jaehee stopped by with donuts, so I saved one for you.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and Saeran didn’t say a word. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that didn’t feel like hate, but he was still gazing out the window so Saeyoung couldn’t be sure. He sighed. “Okay, I’ll still be outside, then.” He turned around and left, resuming his post in the chair.

He sat that way for three hours. Sometimes he looked in the window to see if Saeran had changed. He never did. He played games on his phone, sent flirtatious texts to Nicky, and sometimes jumped into the chatroom to flood it with cat gifs for the next person to log in and find. He thought about his past, his present, and his future. That was the part he hated most about all this stagnant time. The amount of thinking he could do led his mind down dark, miserable pathways. Sometimes he daydreamed about what his life with Nicky would look like when the worst of this had passed, but fear always consumed whatever happiness that brought him. What if Saeran never got better? What if this was all the life they would ever get? He didn’t know if he could handle that. He didn’t think he could come here, day after day, for the rest of his life. He also didn’t think he could give up on his brother. He owed him every ounce of strength and patience that he had to give. Was it enough? It didn’t seem to be.

It was noon when he next stood from his chair, stretching to ease the strain on his cramping back. He would check one last time, then tell his brother goodbye. He was ready to go home, to spend a little time with Nicky and make sure she was okay after yesterday. He turned, glancing through the little window, and he was shocked to see a different scene, for the first time in what felt like ages. Saeran was sitting on the bed, the bag with the donut in his lap, his hands clapped over his mouth. Wells of tears were pouring from his eyes, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

This was not improvement.

Saeyoung threw the door open, rushing to the bedside. “Saeran, are you alright? What’s wrong? What can I do?” he wanted to pull him into a hug, but he couldn’t, he knew it would be a disaster. He had to clench his fists to keep still, to keep from touching him to calm him back down. The sounds he was making were horrible to hear, the piteous mewls of a damaged creature.

Saeran looked at him, everything in his eyes honest and fragile. “Kill me.”

“What?” his heart stopped. There was no rage, no malice. This was not bravado or a cry for attention. This was the most genuine thing his brother had ever said, a desperate plea for an act of mercy.

“Kill me. If you really care about me, you’ll do it. I can’t do this. I can’t live in this world. Help me die. Just let me die.”

His frozen heart shattered. “No! Saeran, don’t give up.” This time he gave in, moving forward to take his brother’s hand. He didn’t pull away. His palm was covered in tears. Saeyoung wanted to cry, too. “It will get better. I promise, it will get better.”

“You’ve been saying that all our lives! It never does.” His voice cracked, raw and tortured, all his pain pouring out from his eyes and his mouth and the sag in his shoulders. “Your words are like a carrot on a stick, and I’m the stupid horse that used to follow. I don’t want to get better. I don’t want to keep going. Kill me. Please. I just want to die, it’s all I want to do. Let me die!”

“I can’t! I can’t lose you!”

It was selfish. It was selfish to want to keep his brother around just because he loved him, but Saeyoung couldn’t help it. If he left the world, then Saeyoung would never be able to truly be happy. He would know that he had failed at everything he had ever tried to accomplish, and let down the one person that had needed him most. His brother begged for death, and it was the one and only thing Saeyoung wasn’t willing to offer.

Saeran yanked his hand away, retreating into the bed with a look of disdain on his face. “You remind me of everything bad that ever happened to me. Get out.”

Saeyoung listened, running out of the room and the hospital as fast as his feet would take him.

_Kill me. Please._

The air outside was filling with snow, and the cold was bracing against his cheeks. He rushed all the way to the car, pulling out his keys and ramming them into the door.

_I just want to die._

He was crying as he sat in his seat, turning the car on and spinning out of park. He was crying as he sped into the street, his emotions burning like the combustion in the roaring engine.

_Kill me._

He followed the roads and headed out onto the highway. He didn’t know where he was going, and he didn’t care, he just needed to drive. He would come back to Nicky soon, and let her warm heart sooth the ice in his soul., but he couldn’t face anyone now. Not after the honesty in his brother’s eyes. Not after the desperation, and the way his fingers had been shaking inside Saeyoung’s hand. He needed to get a handle on himself first, to collect his thoughts to keep from exploding. He needed speed, and peace, and he would drive until that didn’t feel true anymore.

_You remind me of everything bad that ever happened to me._

_Saeran, I_ _’m so sorry._


	81. Something Had Helped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a ribbon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about some sin for your Sunday? :3

He slammed the car door as he got out into the night air. It was so late that it would be early soon, and the sky was pelting the world with glittering flecks of snow. He’d driven for hours, but it hadn’t helped. He’d tried loud music, silence, bitter and angry tears. None of it had helped. There was a very high probability that nothing existed in this would that could help. The only option he had was to suffer, which was only fair, considering that that was all his brother could do, as well.

There was snow stuck to his shoes as he stomped into the building, but he didn’t bother wiping his feet. He let it tumble away behind him on the too-clean floor. Evidence that he had come and gone. Evidence that he had not ceased to exist at his brother’s desperate words. The ride through up to the seventeenth floor made him impatient, jittery and nervous. He shouldn’t even be here yet, but he was anxious to get in the door nonetheless. He should have waited to calm down more. He should have stayed away until he didn’t feel like he was on the verge of tears at every moment. On the verge of darkness.

But nothing was helping.

He felt like he was boiling alive, and nothing he did made it any easier. He needed to see her, to hold her, to touch her. He needed to feel something outside of himself, something better than himself. He needed to kiss her and remember that there were so many reasons that he should keep fighting. He had told himself as much, over and over, but the words felt muffled through the dark curtains of his depression. He couldn’t last on words and hopes alone. He needed reality.

When he opened the door to the apartment she was standing in the kitchen. She was still wearing his shirt, though she had put on a pair of soft pants beneath it by this time. He didn’t know what she had been doing in the kitchen, and it didn’t matter because she stopped the second he walked in, taking hopping steps to close the distance between them. She threw her arms around him, pulling him into her, and he sank like a hull breached ship. She was _so warm._ He felt like he had been in ice and snow and solitude for a thousand years, and now he had been blessed with love and fire.

“I missed you.” She told him with patience, with kindness, with the barest hint of regret. She had wanted to be with him since he had texted her to tell her where he was. He had known, but he had still hoped to be able to calm himself without dragging her into it. All he wanted was to be with her, but not if he couldn’t contain himself. Not with everything already on her shoulders, not with the tenuous hold he had on his own emotions. He should have been better than this, but he wasn’t.

“Sorry I’m so late.” He kicked the door closed with his foot as she tilted her head up to look at him. She was love and worry, bound together by the concern in her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

He smiled. “Of course you do.” He kissed her, but he kept it soft, light, and quick. He kept it from becoming what he wanted it to become, because he was afraid of what that would be.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she unfolded herself, trailing her fingers along his arm until she could take his hand and lead him further into the apartment. He shook his head in response to her question, so she bypassed the couch and led him to the bedroom. She pulled until she could push him onto the edge of the bed, and then she knelt in front of him and started undoing the laces to his shoes. “What happened?”

He hadn’t given her any details yet. His text had given her the bare minimum, because he couldn’t even bring himself to type it. That had been another reason that he had avoided returning home. He would have to tell her the truth of it, and say it out loud, which sounded like the worst thing in the world to him. Still, she needed to know, and in spite of all the pain it would bring, he had no desire to hide things from her.

“He begged me to kill him, and then he told me I remind him of everything bad that has ever happened to him.” He swallowed, his throat dry, his fingers shaking. His shoes were off now, and she stood and slid his jacket away from his shoulders. He moved his arms to help, but he felt detached from his own limbs. She took the jacket and folded it, walking it across the room to lay across the top of the dresser. She returned to him, climbing onto the bed and pulling him back with her. They laid side by side, and he placed his hands in the small of her back, fingers splayed across her spine. She felt so whole, so real. He wanted that. He wanted to inhale it and make it part of himself.

Her fingers brushed against his cheekbones, and he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He was so grateful that she offered no other empty platitudes. She could have told him that it wasn’t true, that his brother didn’t really feel that way, but they knew that would have been a lie. She could have told him that it was just Saeran’s illness talking, and nothing more, but that too would have been untrue, because it was the most honest and clear minded thing his brother had said. She could have told him that he would change his mind when he got better, but that would have been speculation at best.

She kissed him, the sweet nectar of her breath pouring into him, and he closed his eyes and tried to forget everything that wasn’t her. This would help. When all else had failed, this would drive the searing pain away. He wanted it, he longed for it, he cherished it more than the rhythm of his own tattered heart. He needed more, and so he deepened the kiss, wrapping his tongue around hers as she hummed low in her throat. He rolled them, turning them on the mattress until his body was over hers, pressing them together as he struggled to be closer. Her fingers slid up the back of his neck and dragged through his hair, her heart beating against his own between their chests, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he needed everything, he needed the world around them to die and burn to leave only this feeling in the glowing ashes.

He grabbed her wrists, pulling them up sharply and holding them above her head as he rolled his hips into hers. He bit her lower lip, desperate for her, desperate for more of the crashing waves that poured from her chest with each breath. She whimpered, and he shuddered in response, his mind spinning with the need to swallow her light to drown out his darkness. He was a match, dragged slowly across the rough face of sandpaper, and any minute now he would ignite. He didn’t have enough control. He couldn’t be soft with her. Not like this, and not in this moment. He wanted to push her to a breaking point with him, to smash them both through a glass wall of pleasure and aching. If he didn’t stop now he would be lost, and he wouldn’t be able to make himself stop.

He rolled off her, leaving her gasping and glowing. He sat on the edge of the bed, chest heaving, trying to regain his senses. He _needed,_ but he couldn’t _take._

“Saeyoung?” her voice trembled, and he wanted to do terrible things to her in response, so he shuddered again. “Are you alright?”

 _No._ “Yes. Fine.” He was so weak.

“What’s wrong?”

He glanced back at her, peering through eyelids that he kept half closed, to keep himself from being blinded by her shining eyes. “I just…I’m too upset. If we keep going, I’m afraid I’m going to lose control with you.”

“What would happen then?”

He closed his eyes, images of what he wanted playing through his mind. Arched back, bound hands, sweat beading in the curve at the base of her throat. Fingers tearing at the sheets as her legs trembled. Moans that were half whine and half pleasure. Bite marks spread across her stomach that declared her as only his. He didn’t answer her question.

She raised herself off the pillows, crawling across the bed to him. He didn’t have to open his eyes to picture it, on her hands and knees. It evoked new waves of desire striking at his resolve. He jumped when her fingers trailed up his back, nails scraping against his skin to make him shiver.

“I want you to lose control.”

“What? No -” she placed a single finger against his lips, silencing him with a feather-soft touch.

Her voice was dark in his ear, midnight draped in velvet. “I know what you want. I know what you want to do. And I’m telling you that I want you to do it. I’m all yours.”

He groaned, tilting his head back to let it fall against her chest. His resistance was getting weaker by the second. “Are you sure?”

“I trust you. I want you. All of you. Every part. The good, the bad, the parts that you can’t control. I want you in every way, because I’m yours.”

His resolve fled like scattering birds, disappearing into the snow laden night sky. He turned, grabbing her wrists and shoving her backwards onto the bed, looking into her eyes as they trembled together. He thanked his lucky stars, the ones that hovered in the dark parts of her gaze, and then he kissed her. It was rough, and greedy, taking from her lips where before he would have tried to give. When he left them, hers were shaking, her eyes fluttering open and setting him ablaze. He let her go, but she made no move to change her position as he rose off the bed.

“Wait here.”

He padded into the other room, moving over to the boxes of Rika’s things that had been stacked against the wall. He opened the one, digging through it for what he knew he had seen sitting somewhere. He had spotted it when Nicky had been packing things, and of course his mind had marked its location, just in case he would have an opportunity to use it. He had felt guilty about it, but now he was thankful. He saw it, tucked beneath a back of loose papers, and he pulled it from the box, examining it. The spool was long, and there was still plenty of it left for his purposes. The ribbon was wide, and made of fine silk that whispered as he unwound some of it. It was a dyed a deep evergreen, four shades darker than the green in her eyes, and he liked the idea of it matching. 

He walked back to the room, then leaned against the door frame, toying with the stretch of loose ribbon in his hands. He watched her carefully, still poised in the position that he had left her. She saw what was in his hands and he could see her breath hitch while her pupils dilated. Her cheeks were glowing, turning a deep pink that made her gaze look like magic. He adored the way she looked right now. He left the doorway, walking over to the bed with slow, lazy steps. Her eyes were trained on him the whole way. He stood over her, dragging the ribbon through his fingers, playing with the end so that it flipped around his hand. He was starving for her, but he forced himself to take one more moment of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

 _“Yes.”_ Her assent was enthusiastic, honest, and whatever reservations he had managed to have left crumbled to dust and fell away.

“Then take off your clothes.” He spoke softly, the unvoiced ‘please’ provided in the tone of his words rather than said aloud. She complied, peeling off her pants, then her shirt. She was kneeling on the bed, in nothing but a simple pair of black panties, and she was radiant as her blush raced across her skin. She looked at him, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her last piece of clothing, but he stopped her, holding out his hand. “Wait. That’s enough.” She stopped, dropping her hands to hang at her sides, her eyes peering up at him, waiting. She looked as hungry as he felt, and it pulled at the chains he kept wrapped around his darkest parts. He wanted her, he wanted this, so badly that he thought he might perish.

He placed a hand on her chest and pushed her backwards, sending her bouncing onto the mattress. Her hair coiled around her in a sea of red, so gorgeous, and he loved her. He climbed onto the bed, moving until he was straddling her, his knees pressing into the sides of her hips. He pulled a length of the ribbon off the spool, giving himself enough to work with, and then he cut it with his teeth. He felt her twitch when he did, her eyes riveted on his mouth, and he smirked. He set down the spool and leaned over, wrapping his hands around her wrists and drawing them back above her head. He had nothing to tie her to but herself, but he could make that work.

He hovered his lips just above hers as he bound her wrists together. He did not kiss her, and watched as she clenched her jaw trying to keep her face still. He could feel how badly she wanted to press her lips to his, and he reveled in it. He glanced up at his handiwork around her wrists, a simple loop around the delicate joints, green folded over green folded over cream. The knot was a bow, because he was nothing if not an overachiever, and he grinned in satisfaction. He pulled away from her, still refusing the kiss she was all but begging for, and a small whimper worked its way out of her. It was a sound of need and desire, a plea that required no words to speak volumes.

She kept her arms exactly where he left them, and lust coiled in his stomach.

He looked down at her, and he considered blindfolding her. The ribbon was wide enough that he could impair her sight, if he wished. With another girl he might have, but he didn’t want to do it that way with her. He wanted her to see him. He wanted her eyes on him at all times. He wanted her to watch everything he did, and know exactly what it did to him.

He picked up the spool and unwound another length of ribbon, longer this time. Her breathing made her chest rise and fall in erratic patterns as she watched him. She didn’t stop watching as he severed the end of the silk with his teeth again, and her hips jerked upwards in response. He smirked again, delighting in her reactions. She was perfect, every inch of her, every bit of her, and he wanted to tear her down and build her up again, driving her to madness before bringing her to bliss.

He leaned forward once more and started wrapping the soft green around her arms, looping it in places, crossing over to the other side, left then right then left again. It made a pattern like a constellation as he bound her arms together, tying them secure. Not tightly, but firm enough that she wouldn’t be able to move them. When he had finished the knot he finally kissed her, parting her mouth to swipe his tongue along her teeth, biting her lip before he let her go. It was too short to satisfy her, and a sigh of frustration escaped her throat. He shifted so that he could maneuver his legs, and slid his knee between her thighs, moving it against the bottom of her groin without quite applying pressure. She started to roll her hips instinctively, seeking friction, seeking relief, but she stopped herself before he could protest. She looked him in the eye, making every muscle in her body still as she waited for his next move. She was good at this.

He grabbed the ribbon again, taking another piece and biting through it. This one he looped around the whole construction, and instead of knotting it he placed the loose end in her hands, to give her something to grip. She clutched it in her palms, fingers curling around as they shook. As she held it and drew it tighter, it pulled at the binding on her upper arms, forcing her to stretch and reach higher. She tested it a few times, feeling the weight of it, and he grinned when it made her pupils dilate further.

He trailed his fingers along her arms as he sank lower, positioning his head by her neck. He started with a kiss, and then another, his lips dancing along her chest as he moved steadily southward. He reached her breasts, rising and falling each time he touched her as she gasped in response. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, and she moaned, then moaned again when he swirled it around his tongue. When he nibbled it she cried out, joyous and needy, her voice a ringing bell to call her lust to the heavens. He released her, pink and stiff, glowing from his ministrations, and moved his head to the side. He bit the soft flesh on the curve of her breast and she bucked her hips, gasping again. He pulled away and saw a mark, dark red and glowing. He soothed the sting with a gentle kiss, and then found a new spot and repeated the steps.

He worked his way across her chest, a trail of ache and delight leading him to her other nipple. She trembled each time, arched her back each time, sang breathless moans of praise each time. He reveled in the visible remnants he left behind, celebrating each new proof of existence painted on her body. He used his lips and tongue to ease the smarting ache she would be feeling, and she wavered between love and need. She was lit like a hundred candles, flickering and burning with each movement, indoor stars brought to life at the behest of mankind. She responded to everything, gripping the ribbon as her eyes screwed shut. She would always open them again, always look back down at him, always searching for his gaze, for his attention, for his approval. Oh, how he loved her.

He rose, and he grabbed part of the ribbon cage around her arms, pulling her up with him. He left her like that as he reached for the spool of green once more, and she let her head fall back as she held her arms in the air under her own power. She couldn’t lower them, so she didn’t have much of a choice. He saw her tremble with the effort as he dragged out more ribbon. He rewarded her perseverance by grinding his hips against hers, giving her the barest brush of friction as he raked against her through his jeans. She moaned, but kept her mouth closed so that it was a long, drawn out hum that vibrated between the two of them. It was his turn to shake this time, aching with the desire to bury himself into her. Not yet. They were not there yet. He waited until she opened her eyes before he leaned in close to her face, slipping the ribbon between his teeth and severing its connection to the spool. Her breath blew across his face, sweet and warm, and he smirked again.

He wrapped the ribbon around her chest, forming patterns around the curve of her breasts. He brushed the silk across her nipples every time he passed, and each time produced another gasp. Her breath was pure heat on his face, and he wanted to swallow it, to let it burn him away. He resisted the urge, dragging out the process, knowing that she would be waiting the minute he was ready. He took the last length of the ribbon and tied it to the intricate knots at the top, and then he pushed her back onto the bed. She arched her back, feeling the silk pull tight against her skin as she tested the limits of its movements. The green was gorgeous against her, playing with the rich red in her hair and the nebulous emerald in her eyes. _Perfection._  

Satisfied that she would not be able to reach him now, he slid lower onto the bed. He hooked his fingers around the edge of her panties, smelling the wet heat that had gathered there as he pulled them down. He left them around her ankles, enjoying the sight as he brought himself back up to rest his head against her stomach. Her skin was searing, and he took a moment to appreciate the softness of it beneath the heat. The silk of the ribbon paled in comparison to the perfection of her flesh, no other thing on earth nearing its equal. The softest, the warmest, the most beautiful as she arched her back. _His._

He bit the side of her stomach, leaving another mark, and he worked his way across her entire abdomen. He licked them when she whined too loudly, kissing away the brief flash of pain. She did not shy away from it, she did not hold back her moans. She made it clear that she was in the throes of it as much as he was, carried away on the wings of the dark bird whose feathers tingled against their nerves. He curved his hand between her legs, pushing her legs open so that he could thrust a finger into her. He kissed below her navel and she started to pant. He flexed his wrist, pumping in and out, picking up speed with each iteration. He continued with his kisses as she groaned in ecstasy, dropping his head lower until he hovered over her heat. He exhaled as he continued to give her what she wanted, adding another finger as she covered his hand in arousal.

When he felt her clench around him he stopped, drawing his finger out in one quick motion. She _whimpered,_ her legs trying to close together to bring the friction back, but he was between them, so she couldn’t. He grabbed her hips with both hands and slid his tongue between her folds, but he didn’t apply enough pressure. She was so close, he could feel it in the way she was shaking, in the way her back arched and legs shivered. She didn’t say a word.

He stopped, sitting up and pulling away from her. She stared at him, begging him with her eyes, luminous in lust and desperation. He took off his shirt, tossing it to the side, onto the floor. He kept his eyes on hers as he undid his pants, slipping them off and kicking them in the direction that his shirt had gone. He shifted lower on the mattress, until he was hovering over her ankles, and he removed the panties still hanging from her limb.

He kissed the inside of her right ankle, then wound a trail along the inside of her leg. She shook under his touch, her eyes molten as they watched him, her fingers straining around the ribbon and pulling it tighter, making her arch her own back in response. He moved over her thighs, and then dragged his tongue through her center once more, tasting the perfection of her desperation for him. He did not stop, he did not linger. He continued upward, until his body was flush against her, pressing his hips into hers, but he did not sink into her. She whined when she felt him, rolling her hips the barest of an inch, her cheeks ruddy with need. She was not ready yet, though. He had not brought her to the edge of sanity yet. He kissed her, rocking against her with slow rhythm, too slow to do more than frustrate her further. She moaned in the back of her throat, half sob half wonder, all of it pleading for more.

He pressed his lips against her ear. “You look amazing.” He bit her earlobe, and she whined again, bucking her hips into his. He took the edge of one of the ribbons wrapped around her chest, pulling it with his teeth. It tightened the entire circuit, pressing into her skin, and she moaned. He swayed his hips forward, still slow, still too little for the starving burning between her legs. Her heat was incredible, like he was pressing his body against living flame, each freckle an errant ember that sought to sear itself into his flesh. He reached down, pushing himself out of the way to slip a finger inside her again, and he pushed in and out. She gasped, twitching against him, riding his hand as much as she could while she was still pinned against his weight.

“Beautiful.” He murmured the encouragement against her, and her breath became ragged as it left her. He increased his pace, pushed the rhythm, and then when he felt her grow tight and frenetic around him, he again pulled his hand away, kissing her to swallow the piteous cry of frustration that left her.

He released her lips, shifting again so he could kiss across her body. He tugged at the ribbons, pulling them taught around her, and every movement drew a moan, her nerves on overload from the denial of her satisfaction. He wondered if he could bring her to completion this way, but his own desire was becoming a pool of pain near the bottom of his stomach. Still, he marveled at the possibilities.

It was something he could control. Her sighs, her moans, the way her hips rolled when he pressed his lips to her stomach. In this moment she belonged to him, given over willingly in an act of love, open to allow him to take pieces of her to heal himself. He could wrap her around him at any moment, at whatever time he chose, and she would breathe his name into the room like a prayer. He could choose to unravel her slowly, bit by bit, until she was begging for release with more than her gaze. Begging _him,_ because he held her sway beneath his touch. She had given him something no one else in the world had ever thought to provide. She had given him power, and to the part of him that was still the small boy whose first memory had been to feel powerless, it was the most precious gift he had ever received.

He flipped her over, grabbed her hips and tilted them upwards, then thrust into her. She cried out into the mattress, the sweat-soaked sheets absorbing the shout of pleasure and relief. He held her still, rotating his hips without giving her the motion that she was dying for, reveling in the mewling sounds she made in the back of her throat. She trembled, and he closed his eyes and felt it, every bit of it, letting it envelope him and carry him away.

“Saeyoung. Please.”

Then the waiting was over, and he jerked her hips higher and began pounding into her. It was hot and fast, frenzied to a degree that he had not yet allowed himself to show. Sweat rolled down the middle of his back, beaded at the base of her spine. It was not the slow pull of passion that they had shared before, but it was every bit as much love. He rutted into her, over, and over, as though taking her could erase every ounce of pain from his past and present, as though he were reborn again in the grip of her pleasure. The revelation was that it did, and he was. Each thrust was a release of the chains he kept wrapped around his heart and his mind, and each moan drew all his worries and suffering from him, setting him free. It was more than he had ever had, more than he had ever been able to achieve. She burned away the shreds of everything he hated about himself, and with her heat she forged him anew. The cracks were sealed, lined with silver and gold to make him whole, and he became something beyond what he could have ever been alone.

She had given him control, and he had lost it, and nothing had ever felt more right.

She came before he did, screaming his name with a voice scraped raw from too much breathing and moaning. Everything clenched, everything tightened, the knots from the ribbons digging into her back as she clutched the loose end. He watched her unravel beneath him, watched her grind his name from between her clenched teeth, watched her buck against him as he drove into her further. _Beautiful._ The most beautiful woman in the world.

He followed her a few minutes later, spilling into her with a cry that ripped out of his throat and bounced against the walls, his fingers bruising her hips with how hard he had gripped them. Everything was perfect, everything was still. Nothing existed beyond the beating of their hearts and the trickle of air through their overworked lungs. When he finally stopped twitching he fell forward, collapsing against her back. He had the presence of mind to bring the ribbon to his teeth, cutting it in three places to unwind her. She did the rest of the work herself, breaking free and coiling her arms around him. He pulled her close against him, pressing her cheek against his heartbeat so that she could hear it sing.

“I love you. So much. So, so, so much.” He whispered the words through his cracked throat. She pulled him tighter, kissing his beating heart with lips that felt cool even as they filled him with warmth.

“I love you too, Saeyoung. _Always._ ”

They fell asleep coiled together, and his last conscious breath was a sigh of relief. Something had helped. Something had finally made him feel better. _Love._


	82. It Wasn’t Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky tries to help.

She ached in the best way when her eyes opened the next morning. She gave herself some time, laying in his arms and absorbing his warmth. He always held her so closely while they slept, unwilling to let her go as they slipped into dreams. She didn’t mind, and she never would. Almost losing each other so many times had that effect on them. Night was the time that they had to cling to each other desperately, the way that they wanted to each day. They could hold one another and know that nothing had been lost. They had succeeded, and lived through the worst of it, and even though life had refused to give them the easy, storybook happily ever after, they would write their own ending and swear it to the stars.

She moved out of his arms slowly, taking care not to disturb him, although one look at his face told her that she could hold a parade in his honor and he probably wouldn’t notice. He had tired himself out, it would seem.

She left him dreaming on the bed, the ribbons used the previous night still lying coiled across the sheets, a trail of love and release that would remind him of her as soon as he awoke. She didn’t want to wake him to say goodbye. It was better that he rest and never know where she was going. She wanted him to be happy, to bask in the relief he had earned, even for just a little longer. She hoped that what she was doing would bring him more happiness, but in the end she was not doing it for Saeyoung. She had given Saeyoung last night, but today she would offer something different to his other half.

She showered quickly, then dressed quietly, thanking the world for the small grace that she could find in a turtleneck sweater, covering the faint bruises dotting her neck. She was surprised that she had bruised at all, since she had hardly felt any pain. Her own internal pain had been great enough that it had overwritten everything else, until she had lost herself in the moments he painted on her skin. She had needed it as much as Saeyoung had. She hoped that he knew that, and that he would not wake and fret over what had happened. She would have to tell him later, after she returned.

She donned her winter wear, grabbed her bag, and left the apartment, making her way through the silent halls. When she found herself in the open air she wrapped her scarf tighter around herself, dipping her chin inside of the warm fabric to keep the freezing cold away from her nose. It was still snowing, and there were mounds of it all over the ground now, rolling hills of gentle white. It crunched underneath her feet as she walked, sticking to the ends of her boots.

She walked the whole way to the hospital, trying to decide what it was she wanted to say. There were a lot of things that she wished that she could talk to him about. A lot of things that she wanted to work through with him. Saeran had the worst life that she could have imagined anyone ever having, and she wanted him to know that she hated everything that had happened to him. She also wanted him to know that it wasn’t his fault, and she wondered if anyone had ever told him that. Her own trauma paled in comparison, but she knew what had worked to break through the torrent of despair that had swallowed her afterward. Her therapist assuring her that it had not been her fault was an important part of that. Had Saeran’s therapist said as much? From the way Saeyoung spoke about her, Nicky wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been back to the hospital since Saeyoung had asked her not to go, but everything she heard made her think that they just wanted Saeran to go away. He must feel terrible, if all his interactions were like that. His outburst towards Saeyoung proved the awful truth though, and she wondered if there was a better way.

That was something that she had in common with Saeran, now. There was a time that she had wanted to die, too. She had been alone, and there would have been no one left to mourn her passing. She’d cradled a bottle of her pills in her palm, rolling it back and forth as she stared at the floor. She’d questioned if there had been anything on her horizon that could have been worth the pain. If she would ever move past it. The darkness in her heart festered in the scars, screaming at her constantly. If she just swallowed all her pills, it would all go away.

She couldn’t even remember why she didn’t, but she had ended up just going to sleep, then got up and carried on the next day. It had gotten a little easier to handle, and a pleasant numbness had settled over her. That hadn’t been better, but it had been bearable. A few weeks later she’d downloaded an app from a strange email, and while everything had been chaos, she was infinitely glad that she had not swallowed those pills before she’d had the chance to meet the RFA. There was no afterlife that would have been sweeter than the family she had now.

She arrived at the hospital, and she had to ask a receptionist where his room was. It was lucky that Jumin had kept her on the approved visitor’s list, or her trip would have been for nothing. An exhausted looking nurse in ill-fitting scrubs showed her down the twisting hallways to his room, sighing when they had arrived.

“You need security?”

“What?” Nicky blinked at her, unsure of what she meant.

The nurse sighed again. “Security. To see him. In case he gets violent.”

“Oh, um, no. I would prefer to be alone.”

She rolled her eyes, already turning and walking away. “Whatever. Shout if you need help.”

Nicky frowned as she watched her walk away, hoping that not all the staff was like that towards him. It was a frail hope, since she knew how miserable he was. The very people that were supposed to be helping him were making it worse by lacking compassion, one more thing that was unfair to the smaller Choi. She fidgeted with the fringe of her scarf as she turned towards the door. She took off her coat and gloves, folding them over her arm. Now she was nervous, and wasn’t sure if she should go in. Should she have brought something? Some token from the outside world? Some gift that could speak for her, in lieu of words, that would tell him everything she needed him to know?

She bit her lip and opened the door, trying to hold her head up high as she entered. He didn’t turn at first, and so she set her coat and bag down on the chair, clasping her hands together now that she had nothing to hold. She took a hesitant step forward, and it was then he seemed to sense something different and turned. His eyes were red and bloodshot, but still sky blue beneath the fatigue, and they widened when they saw her. It hurt how much pain she saw in them, but she resisted the urge to rush forward and hug it out of him.

“You.” His word was barely a whisper, so meek and small, like he had become the small boy Saeyoung had told her about from their childhood. She took another step forward, standing beside his bed.

“Hello, Saeran.” She sounded nervous, even to herself, but it seemed to calm him somehow. He took in her fidgeting and her shaking words, and some of the tension in his shoulders drained. 

He frowned, his brows furrowing together. “Are you here to try and make me forgive that bastard?”

“No.”

“No?” he blinked in surprise, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“We’ve been over that, remember? It won’t do any good for me to tell you that he’s kind and honest. You have to decide that for yourself.”

He curled his hand into a fist, staring at the blanket covering his legs. “Oh. Right. We did talk about that.”

“How are you feeling today?” she wanted to sit, but the chairs were far away. She wanted to remain standing, but her legs were shaking. She wanted to pace, but she didn’t want to make him anxious. She was so scared that she would do something wrong, to make him feel worse.

“I thought you died.” It wasn’t an answer to her question, but she didn’t mind. He looked at her again, something cold and afraid in his gaze.

She lifted her hands, placing them on the railing of his bed so that she didn’t feel like she was adrift in the middle of the room without any mooring. “I almost did.”

“You got shot. I…shot you?” his frown deepened, the tension in his fingers increasing until his knuckles went white.

“You don’t remember?”

He glanced at her, but he couldn’t meet her gaze. “I shot someone.”

“You did.” She weighed her words, measured her calm, and then opted for the truth, as blunt and evenly as she could put it. “You tried to shoot Rika, but V dove in front of the bullet to save her. You didn’t shoot me.”

“Oh.” He nodded, weak and trembling, his eyes losing focus as they stared at nothing.

“Has that been bothering you?”

“Yes. No. It doesn’t matter. I shot someone.” He repeated it with a finality, and she knew that this was the key point that put the haunted look in his eyes. Blame for a death, guilt for the loss of V’s life. Whatever Rika had tried to pound into his brain, it hadn’t been enough to keep him from the regrets of murder. Not his fault, but he wouldn’t feel that way. He might not ever lose that kind of guilt. She had only gotten someone imprisoned, and it still weighed on her shoulders. She could only imagine how much worse it was for him.

“Yes, you shot someone, but you were scared.”

“Yes. No. I was angry. I was…everything was so loud and bright.” None of his answers were straightforward, but she understood that. Nothing that had happened to him had been easy to understand, and he had been given so very few tools to try and deal with the emotional aftermath.

“I know. You were on something that Rika gave you.”

His eyes shone before he spoke, and it made bile rise in the back of her throat. “Medicine.”

“No.” He looked up at her sharply, recoiling from the vehemence of her denial. “It wasn’t medicine, Saeran. What she did to you wasn’t okay.”

“She loved me. She saved me.”

“She hurt you, and used you. She was too sick to love you the way you loved her.”

He inhaled slowly, his eyebrows curving beneath the weight of his sorrow. “I tried to shoot her.”

“You did. You almost hit her.”

“Is she mad at me?” there was the little boy again, desperate for approval from those that only wanted to use him.

“No.” Her voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat and start again. “No, Saeran, she isn’t mad at anyone anymore.”

“I thought…I thought I wanted to see her. I don’t think I do.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to see anyone you don’t want to.”

Anger boiled over in an instant, changing him into a shaking, furious being. “Then make _him_ stop coming.”

She didn’t have to ask which ‘him’ he meant. No one ever would. “I can ask him to stop saying hello, but he’s still going to sit outside that door every day.”

“Why?” his demand was a plea, pain and confusion, disdain lingering from a hundred lies poured into his brain over the rim of a pretty green bottle. She wished she had enough strength to be angry at Rika for it, but she kept thinking about her empty gaze pressed against the window, and her hatred drained away to nothing. Broken people breaking others, a never-ending chain.

He was watching her, waiting for a response, and she wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. “Do you want the easy answer, or the honest answer?”

“I don’t want an answer. I don’t care.” He looked down, disappointed, and she felt like she had failed him.

“Okay.” She tapped her finger against the railing on his bed, watching her own hands while a tingling burn built up behind her eyes. Why couldn’t she just find the words? Why couldn’t she just find the one thing that could be said to break through the miasma of depression and pull him from the brink? There had to be something. There had to be something that would be the rope he could hold on to, a lifeline to drag himself back out of the storm. She _knew_ she couldn’t fix everything at once, she knew it would still be a long and painful journey, but she also knew what a breakthrough felt like. She knew what it felt like to hear that one important thing, uttered allowed, that let the pieces of pain fall away so that she could see clearly enough to recover. She just wanted to give him that. That was all she needed to accomplish today, yet she was still falling short.

“I want to die.”

The words twisted in her heart, because she knew them too well. “I heard.”

“He talks about me?” the surprise in his voice was new, and she met his gaze, trying to latch onto it.

“All the time.”

“I’m sorry.”

_Why?_ “Don’t be! Sometimes I ask about you, when he doesn’t tell me right away. I’m worried about you.”

“You’re lying.” Anger again, fear and rage. The storm boiling over to cover the boy in ash and thunder.

“Do you really think I’m lying?”

He wavered, but the pain was already too great, and he stared at the ground again. “It doesn’t matter. Why are you here? If you aren’t here for him, then what do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you. I just…I wanted to make sure someone told you that it wasn’t your fault.”

“What wasn’t?”

“Any of it.” She almost took his hand, but resisted. He was shaking, and she hated it. “Your mother, your brother leaving, Rika, shooting V. None of it was your fault.”

“How can you say that?” his voice rose in pitch and volume, trembling like a lone blade of grass in a barren wasteland. “Why are you so calm? How can you say that and be so calm?”

That answer was easy, and it left her lips before she even had to think about it. “Because I used to blame myself for everything that happened to me.”

“You mean…?” his eyes were wide while his words failed him, trailing into awed silence.

“You know. You said it was why you picked me.”

He shook his head, his hair falling in front of his face, white tips at the end of red roots. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. And none of _this_ was your fault.”

“You don’t know.” He was scared, it was too close to something he was running from, and so he defaulted to fury once more. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that you tried to save me.”

“I was going to kill you.” He went from a spark to a blaze, and she opened her mouth to say something more, but he cut her off. “Go away. I just want to look at the sky.”

He turned away from her, facing the window. She wanted to cry, but she held in the tears, swallowing back the rushed words of panic that she wanted to throw at him. _Don_ _’t do this. We care about you. Stop blaming yourself for things you couldn’t control. I just want you to smile._

“Do you know why I’m really so calm?” he didn’t answer her, clenching his jaw and keeping his gaze locked on the snow filled clouds. “It’s because I can see the sky in your eyes.”

He turned again, confusion overpowering his rage, if only for a brief moment. “What?”

“You’re angry, and hurt, and the words that you throw at everyone are painful and awful. There is a storm in your eyes, every day that I’ve seen them, but…I can see the blue sky beneath, clear and peaceful. You have the sky inside of you, Saeran, and it will take a lot of work, but someday soon you’ll know how to find it.” It was poetic, and stupid, but she said it anyways. It was how she felt when she looked at him, and if all else failed maybe her silly sentiments could mean something.

She turned, plucking her things off the chair and walking towards the door, but his words stop her. “Wait.” She looked back at him, his hair hanging over his gaze so that she couldn’t see it. “You’re only saying that because of him.”

“No.” She shook her head, closing her eyes to fight back the tears. “It’s true that it would make him very happy if you were well, but…you’ve been through enough. I want you to be happy for your own sake.”

His expression broke under the weight of his reaction, and he started to cry. “Get out. Just go, get out and don’t ever come back.” He threw himself away from her, pulling at the restraints on his bed. She wanted to stay. She wanted to take his hand and hold it until everything fell away from him and he could just be himself.

Instead she decided to respect his wishes, but before she left she had to make sure he knew one final thing. If there was anything that he listened to today, she hoped that it was this. “Saeran, I’ll come back if you ever need me, and…please remember that the sky is always up, never down.”

She left, listening to his sobs follow her out the door as her own tears came rushing down the sides of her cheeks. She had done her best, now all that was left was to see if it had made a difference. She sincerely hoped she had.


	83. Don't Worry About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky returns and Saeyoung visits Yoosung.

He was in the middle of stuffing an entire bag of chips into his mouth at once when the door opened in the living room, and he choked as he tried to swallow too much in a hurry. He could already feel himself blushing as he shoved his laptop out of the way, walking over to stick his head out into the hallway to look at her. He didn’t even step beyond the doorway, opting to peer around the corner, as though hiding would make things better. _Don_ _’t be upset, don’t be upset, don’t be upset…_

She was frowning as she hung up her coat. _Crap_. He shuffled his feet, feeling as though he had done the kind of thing that warranted purchasing a random gift as an apology. He had done riskier things in college, but he had never actually dealt with the person the morning after. Particularly not a woman he loved more than his own life and happiness. Today, when he had awoken to find her side of the bed cold, ribbons scattered over everything, he had become terrified of the consequences of his reckless abandon the night before. She had said yes, repeatedly, but maybe it had been too much after all. Maybe this was the part of him that had finally been too faulty, and he had severed the love between them with his selfish needs.

She turned, and with one smile all his anxiety disappeared. She dropped her bag on the floor and rushed over to him, bowling into him and nearly knocking him off his feet as she threw her arms around his neck. He stumbled back into the wall as she kicked her feet up into the air, her grin shining and bright. She kissed him before he could manage to get out a greeting, and he let her lips make his knees weak and his head spin.

She giggled as she released him, placing her feet back on the ground. “Morning, love.”

“Hi. I missed you when I woke up.” He didn’t bother asking where she had gone to, and he wasn’t sure he even cared anymore now that he had her smiling in his arms.

She hummed a laugh in the back of her throat. “Sorry, I wanted to leave before you woke up so you couldn’t protest.” He raised an eyebrow at her, delighting in the blush that crossed her cheeks. “I went to the hospital.”

“What?” his heart fell through the floor, his brain conjuring a hundred awful scenarios that had obviously not happened since she was there before him. That didn’t stop them from playing through his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that.” She kissed him again, quickly, sweetly. “You taste like chips.”

“I was eating…wait, don’t distract me. Tell me what happened? Did you talk to him?”

She sighed, unraveling herself and walking over to collapse on the bed, grabbing the mostly empty bag of chips and plucking one from inside. “Yeah, I talked to him.” She ate the chip, staring at the ceiling. So, that was what the frown had been for, then. Not last night, but this morning.

He clambered on the bed next to her, propping his head up on his elbow and using his free hand to brush her curls away from her face. “Why?” he had a lot of questions, but that one seemed the most pressing at the moment, so it tumbled out at the head of the line.

“Because you said that he wanted to die, and I just…I had some things that I wanted to say to him.”

“Things?” her hair was soft between his fingers, and he used the sensation to calm his nerves.

She wrinkled her nose, worried and unhappy in one small wiggle. “I talked to him about what happened a bit. His memory seems a little foggy. He had it in his head that he was the one that shot me. I told him that nothing that happened to him was his fault, and…that I thought it was worth it for him to keep fighting.”

“So, you actually…talked to him? Like, a whole conversation?” there was a lump in the back of his throat that he tried to talk around, the edges of his vision blurring.

“Yes, a small one. He did kick me out in the end, though. I’m not sure how much I helped.”

He pulled her close, burying his head in the side of her neck. “No, you did good. Wonderful. I’m so happy that he talked to you.”

“Listen.” She adjusted so that she could look at him as he turned his gaze up to her. “The staff at the hospital, they didn’t seem very…”

“Caring?”

“I was going to say _functional_ , but no, they weren’t caring either. I’m worried that he’s not getting any better because they aren’t treating him very well.”

He pursed his lips together. “I had considered that, too.”

“I didn’t know how bad it was until I actually saw him, but…maybe we should try to find another solution?”

“Yeah.” He rolled onto his back, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers together as they both stared at the ceiling. “I’m meeting up with Yoosung in a few hours to talk about that, actually. I thought maybe he would have some insight, since he’s got Rika now.”

“You’re thinking of bringing Saeran home?”

“Not here. I still don’t want you around him that much until I can be sure he’s safe, but I thought maybe I could take care of him at my place.”

She rolled, moving so that she could lay her head on his shoulder without breaking apart their hands. “I’ll support your decision, no matter what it is.”

“Thank you.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo. “That means more to me than I could say.”

 “It’s less than you deserve.” She lifted her head, grinning at him like she held all the secrets in the world behind her glittering eyes. “So, have you eaten anything besides chips? I’m starving.”

He laughed, turning so that he pinned her on the bed, claiming her lips with slow adoration. He loved the way her cheeks flushed by the time he had let her go. “I could eat.” His voice was low and suggestive. More specifically suggestive of things other than actual food.

“Lunch first, Captain Stamina. I skipped breakfast and walked the whole way to the hospital and back.” She laughed, and he peppered her with kisses before releasing her so that they could go eat. Her smile was bright the whole way, and the last of his reservations about the night before disappeared. Nobody smiled like that if they were uncomfortable with something.

In many ways everything was wrong in the world, everything in his life still in pieces, but in this way it was so right, and it was almost enough to make up for the rest. Almost.

***

He watched as Rika sat and stared out of the tinted window. It was different than when Saeran did it. Saeran always seemed to be searching for something, and even when his gaze was turned to the sky, his eyes still held thought and meaning. Rika was just empty. Empty of everything that she had ever been, both good and bad. Saeran’s problem was the opposite. He was full. Full of everything that had ever happened to him, overflowing from him until he was nothing but a conduit for pain.

Yoosung set a can of soda down in front of him, condensation forming along the rim of the cold aluminum. “I’m kinda surprised you wanted to come see her.”

“Not her so much as you. What, I can’t stop by to bother you anymore now that you have a girlfriend?” he smirked as he popped the top of the soda, taking a sip as Yoosung rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He was blushing, which gave Saeyoung every reason in the world to _not_ shut up.

“No time to talk to old friends anymore, so wrapped up in Anna’s clutches.”

Yoosung narrowed his eyes, smiling wickedly. “Oh really, huh? I’m not the one that moved in with mine the second we got out of the hospital.”

Saeyoung choked on his drink. “We didn’t…I mean, I still have my place.”

“That you don’t sleep at.” Yoosung sipped from his own can, gloating in his minor victory.

“How would you know?”

“Am I wrong?”

Saeyoung avoided his gaze. “Not, wrong, per se, just…” Yoosung was grinning like mad, so he gave up the ruse and relented. “What? We almost died, you know.”

“True.” The younger man, by one year and a lot less trauma, chuckled, shaking his head. “Relax, no judgment here. You two were made for each other, so you might as well enjoy it.” He sighed, looking over at Rika, his gaze troubled in a way that Saeyoung could understand all too well. He looked at Rika, but he was thinking about Anna, and how he had too many burdens to be worthy of her. Saeyoung didn’t even need to ask to understand that compulsion. He just hoped Yoosung was smart enough to learn from _his_ mistakes when it came to dealing with it. Apparently pushing the love of his life away had been an ineffective strategy. Who would have guessed?

“Listen, I wanted your opinion on something.”

“Me? Why me?”

He smirked, unable to avoid at least one more tease towards his easily tormented friend. “You _are_ the psychologist in training, right?”

Yoosung scowled. “I’m barely starting, but I can say you’re already a lost cause, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“That’s okay, my girlfriend’s into it.” He winked, and Yoosung rolled his eyes.

“Gross.”

“No, what I actually wanted to ask about is…I mean, I was thinking about taking Saeran home to take care of him, and I was wondering how it’s been for -”

“Don’t.” Yoosung cut him off with a firm answer, his jaw set in a deep frown.

“Really?” he glanced at Rika, then back at his friend. “She seems to be doing well.”

Yoosung pulled up the sleeve of his sweater, and Saeyoung could see the scratches and bruises that covered his pale skin. “Yeah, really well. It’s great.” He sounded so bitter, so tired, and the dark circles under his eyes started to make a bit more sense. “She’s fine as long as I’m letting her sit around and do nothing. But feeding her, taking care of her, trying to get her to go to bed…she fights me more on it every day.”

“Jesus, have you told anybody else about this?” Saeyoung stared at Yoosung’s arm, shocked that the placid girl by the window could have done such a thing. Then again, Rika seemed more than capable of surprising him with her depravity of late. He glared at her, wishing she weren’t mentally checked out, if only so he could yell at her. Nicky would disapprove, but seeing the raw welts on Yoosung’s arm overruled her opinion at the moment.

Yoosung shrugged, rolling his sleeve back down with a wince. “I talk with Zen, a bit. It’s not like anyone can do anything about it.”

“Maybe you should take her back to the hospital and -”

“No. I’ll figure it out, don’t worry about it.” His determination was frosty, so Saeyoung didn’t press the matter. He could understand not wanting to put anyone back in that hospital after he had seen how they felt about long term or difficult patients.  Although he did make a mental note to bring everything up to Jumin at some point. Maybe they could pitch in and hire a nurse to help Yoosung, or find somewhere else that she could go. Otherwise things were going to get to be too much for him too fast for them to do anything. He wasn’t about to lose _another_ person that he cared about to Rika’s whims.

Yoosung sighed, rubbing his face with his palms. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m taking my own problems out on you. Saeran is a totally different situation than Rika. Although, Jumin mentioned that he is still pretty violent with the doctors.”

“Yeah, I know. But they’re awful to him, so maybe that’s why he isn’t getting any better.”

Yoosung chewed on his lower lip. “I dunno. He still hasn’t even had a conversation with anybody.”

“Actually, he did!” Saeyoung couldn’t contain his excitement over it, happiness filling him to the brim over the miracle Nicky had been able to perform. “Nicky went to see him this morning and he talked to her for a good fifteen minutes.”

Yoosung’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Really? I thought she wasn’t going to see him until he was more stable?”

“Well, she wasn’t supposed to, but…she snuck out while I was sleeping.”

“Wow, and you’re not mad?”

He grinned, feeling like a wolf as he chuckled. “No, she could have gotten away with _anything_ this morning.”

“Still gross.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older. Someday, when you’re alone with Anna -”

“I will punch you, dude.”

Saeyoung tipped his head back and laughed before finishing his drink. “Alright, alright. No need to resort to violence.”

“Idiot.” Yoosung finished his own soda, letting the can clink against the tabletop with a tinny sound. “Nobody knows Saeran as well as you do, Saeyoung. You’re his brother, and I don’t think any of us can tell you what would make him happier. If you think taking him out of the hospital is best, then maybe it is. Just be careful.”

“I know. I just…I don’t think I can leave him in that place. Anything would be an improvement.”

“Yeah. Just make sure he gets treatments from somewhere. Rika got sicker because V thought he could heal her all by himself. That’s not how mental illness works. You can’t love it away until it’s gone. Love helps, and it’s needed, but there are times where love can’t conquer all.”

Saeyoung looked at Rika, remembering the look on V’s face as he had seen her for one last time. He had been trying to help Saeran, to pull the gun from his grasp and calm him back down, but he had still glanced over in time to see his friend die with Nicky’s hands pressed over his chest. She had forgiven him, and he had looked so happy. His crime had been loving a broken girl, and Saeyoung didn’t know if he could hate him for that anymore. Because if Nicky had become Rika, he would have followed her straight into hell to try and save her, too. Now Rika was empty and the world was missing a gentle artist. Love hadn’t conquered, it had vanquished, because they hadn’t noticed when it had twisted on itself in Rika’s despair.

He stood, adjusting his glasses so that they rested evenly on his nose. “Thanks, Ducky. I’ll have to think about it some more, but this helped.”

“At least I could get something right!” Yoosung beamed at him, taking the sting out of the dark words, although Saeyoung recognized a false smile when he saw one. You couldn’t hide depression from the master at hiding depression.

He didn’t tell Yoosung, but he quietly promised himself to find a way to help Rika, too. Saeran was his first priority, but they would need to take care of the RFA founder as well. If not for her sake, then for Yoosung’s.


	84. Knight in Shining Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who missed Aleks?

The campus seemed far too blinding in the early morning light, the sun shrouded in clouds but still somehow reflecting off the snow scattered on the ground. The brightness did absolutely nothing to warm the air around them, though, and he shivered inside of his coat. Nicky was crushing his hand with hers as he walked her to her class, and he could feel her trembling, which he didn’t think was from the cold. There was a small crease between her brows, a single line of worry that told the whole story of her stress. Her eyes were shining again, as well. She had already burst into tears once this morning while she had tried to get ready, but she had seemed to be holding it together since then. He wished that he didn’t have to leave her alone in this wretched place. 

They arrived at the building and she stopped walking, which brought him to a halt as well as he bumped into her. Her fingers tightened around his hand again, although he could barely feel it because at this point it had gone numb. A few other students strolled past them and into the doors, and she flinched as they walked by.

He pried his hand away from hers so he could wrap his arms around her, pulling her into him and speaking directly into her ear. “Just one week left, right? It’s almost over.” She nodded, her eyes on another group of students as they approached, and so he spun her around, placing his hand in the small of her back and dipping her backwards as he kissed her. She squealed, stiff and rigid in his arms, but after a moment she melted into it, returning his love with her usual fervor. He released her, then eased her back upright, her knees shaking so that he had to provide her a little extra support.

She sighed, a sound somewhere between wistful and exhausted. “Almost done.”

He placed his hands on either side of her face, mushing her cheeks together until she laughed and tried to bat him away. “Hey, I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m glad ‘not crumbling to pieces’ is the bar for that.” She rolled her eyes, trying to pretend that she wasn’t blushing even though she knew he could see it.

“You’re chasing your dreams even when these terrible people want to make it impossible. You coming back here after what happened shows them that you can’t be broken. I’d say that’s worth a little pride.” He kissed her again, lips warm against the bitter cold. “I love you more than anything, and so does everyone else in the RFA. So hold you’re head up high, okay?”

Her smile was genuine at last, and it was like a small miracle gracing her face. “I love you, too.” A clock tower near the front of the campus started chiming, and they both turned in it’s direction. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll be back exactly when you told me to, I promise. Now go, be musical and beautiful. The world needs more of it.” He ushered her out of his arms, smacking her bottom before she walked out of reach. She tipped her head back and laughed as she skipped through the doors, sparing one glance over her shoulder to blow him a kiss.

He wished that he could follow her. He wished that he could hold her hand and glare at the people that wanted her to suffer. He couldn’t, and it killed him that there were things that he could not help her with. Still, he was proud that she had returned. He was proud to stand by the side of the girl that had stood up for herself in front of a courtroom that had called her a liar, proud of the girl that had denied her teacher’s abuse and her friends betrayal, proud of the girl that had gone from wanting to hide her past from everyone to being able to share it with their friends. He was so proud that she wasn’t giving up, and he could not tell her that enough. He only hoped that she heard him through all the fear that clogged her head.

***

Class had gone by without a hitch, which was a pleasant surprise all things considered. She had done well on her test, and her professor had promised her overall grade wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. When she had left she felt filled with hope that she might actually succeed in making up all her lost work, and that made her so happy she didn’t care if people were glaring at her or gossiping about her. She had all but skipped to the hall where the practice rooms were arranged, humming softly to herself as she went.

She had a handful of written finals the rest of the week, and one performance that was being pushed until late evening the following Monday, so that she had the right amount of time to prepare. It wasn’t a recital, thank heavens, but she would have to sing for the three vocal coaches on staff, and they would grade her progress from the beginning of the semester. The original time for it had been on Thursday, but after everything that had happened this semester they had given her an extension, which she would never stop being thankful for. She would have to leave after Zen’s play and rush straight to campus, but she would have enough time to get back and sing, and then she would finally be finished.

She shut the door to the practice room, the one furthest from the entrance of the building, and tossed her bag in a chair. Saeyoung had begged her to start using the other building, the ones with surveillance, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She also couldn’t bring herself to use the same practice room where her violin had been destroyed, and she avoided that end of the hallway entirely.

She fished her ear buds out of her bag and put the jack in her phone, flipping the screen unlocked and navigating to the music files. She tapped on the one that had the piano accompaniment to her song, putting just one of the speakers into her left ear. She paced a slow circuit around the room as the song began to play. She listened through it twice, to make sure she had the rhythm down, to make sure she felt the undertones of the chords. When she was satisfied with that she stopped walking and stood up straight, closing her eyes and breathing until the song began again.

When she sang, she imagined the story to the words, let it fill her and consume her, let it flow from her lips and into the room. It was a sad song, because she was partial to those and they suited altos well. She had always imagined that it was about a star that had fallen to earth, growing sad that it was unable to shine any longer. As she worked through the different sways to the melody, she pictured the light of the star slowly fading. In the last stretch of the song there was a moment of hope, a vibrato of sonorous faith as the star looked up at the sky and saw millions of its kin still shining. Lastly there was a diminished minor hold that moved deeper as it grew quieter, until the note and the star had died as one. The literal translation was not so poetic, but she felt like the notes of the song spoke of more than the words on her lips.

She sang it three times through, growing in confidence with each iteration. At the end of the third she let the note hang, eyes closed and lungs emptying, smiling with satisfaction because she had felt the soul of the song and brought it to life. Her father would have been proud.

The clapping startled her out of the moment, and she opened her eyes, yanking the ear bud away from her head. She looked up to see Jen and Liara standing in the open doorway, applauding as they leered at her. Her heart thudded in her chest, her ears still ringing with the notes of a dying star, and she took a step back automatically.

“Oh, brava Nicky. That was truly inspired.” The words were kind, but Liara’s voice was not. Her eyes snapped like a log in the center of an inferno, embers of discontent rolling off her like flies.

Jen wrapped an arm around Liara, grinning maliciously. “You know, I heard gutter trash gets good at singing. Too poor and stupid to do anything else.”

“Just leave me alone.” Nicky was proud that her voice remained clear, more angry than afraid, and she tried to latch on to that feeling.

“’Just leave me alone’,” Liara parroted back. “Why? You busy? Meeting someone?”

Jen snorted. “That weirdo with the glasses, most likely. Is he your boyfriend?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re everbody’s business.” Jen blew a bubbled with the gum that she was chewing, snapping it back into her mouth with a click of her teeth. “You were the one that tried to fuck a professor on camera. Do you do the redhead on camera, too? Or was that a moonlight special for teachers.”

“Look, you already took what mattered most to me. The violin is gone.” Nicky held out her arms, shrugging at them. “There’s nothing left that you can do. You did the worst, and I’m still here. You should give it a rest.”

Liara exchanged a look with Jen, then turned back and narrowed her eyes at Nicky. “What are you trying to pull, you stupid -”

“Nobody cares.” Jen closed the distance between them, pushing Nicky so that she stumbled backwards, banging her legs against the table. She shouted in pain before she could stop it, then bit down on her tongue to hold the rest in. “You have no business at this school, and we all know it.” Jen took another step closer, and Nicky’s heart dropped as she realized they didn’t intend to leave without slinging more than barbed words.

Someone cleared their voice at the back of the room, loud enough to give them all pause, and they turned as one to see a lithe man sauntering through the doorway, one eyebrow raised at the tableau spread before him. His eyes were the deepest blue that Nicky had ever seen, and he turned them towards Liara and Jen with more disdain than any one look should have a right to contain.

“Excuse me, but a few moments ago I heard the most beautiful voice, and I came to investigate. I must meet the person who can sing Stella Mori with so much emotion.” His voice canted out of his throat with a pleasant Russian accent, his eyes dismissing everyone in the room but Nicky as he walked forward.

Jen glared at him, then smiled in a way that was more bared fang than warmth. “You must have misheard. No one was singing. If you have some time, though, I would be happy to give you a show.” Liara’s eyes grew wide as she looked from Jen to the man, but she didn’t speak. The last of the color drained from her face, making the already pale girl look like a misshapen lump of paste.

The man smirked, the freckles on his cheeks rising, amber hair hanging over one eye. “Trust me, little girl, you wouldn’t be my type even if you had all the right equipment.” He walked past them, not even giving them another glance as Liara’s jaw fell open, as though he cared so little for them he didn’t even care if the insult had landed. He held his hand out to Nicky, and she extended her own in response. To her utter bemusement, he brought her knuckles to his lips, planting a gentle kiss against them, smirking again as Liara made some sort of furious buffalo noise behind him. “I believe you were practicing before being so rudely interrupted. I would like to encourage you to continue, if I could be so bold.”

“Oh…um…” she forgot how to speak because she was being bombarded by ridiculous chivalry on one side and furious loathing on the other. She really just wanted to escape. “I was just finishing up.”

Liara found her tongue, opting to use it with venom as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “She was finished before she ever started. You must be new here if you think she has any talent.”

He frowned, turning to face them. “I am new here. And _I_ am very finished talking to you. I also have this practice room booked, starting -” he tilted his wrist, taking Nicky’s still held hand with it, glancing at the elegant watch attached to his arm. “-from five minutes ago, so I will ask you to leave.”

The pair of them rolled their eyes, but they didn’t seem prepared to fight the newcomer on his claim. They flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind them, and Nicky jumped at the echoing boom of the abused wood. His eyes followed them until he seemed to accept that they were truly gone. 

He turned back to her, letting her hand go. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” He looked skeptical, so she sighed and tried again. “Yes, _really_ , I’m okay.”

He nodded, as though she had spoken some immutable fact. “I am sorry you have to deal with such…what is the word? ‘Bitches’?”

She giggled, because that word in his mouth felt far more obscene than it should have. “Well, I suppose you’re not wrong. Thank you for stepping in.”

“Any decent person would have.” He stood up straighter, drawing his shoulders back.

She leaned against the table, smirking at him. “And yet you’re the first. I’m Nicky, by the way.” She offered her hand again, and this time he shook it like a normal person, which she was far more comfortable with.

“Aleks. So, you say no one has stepped in before. Does this mean these girls have made a hobby of this sort of thing?”

She laughed, and it was tinged with bitterness. “You could say that.”

“Listen, I do not begin officially until next semester, but I can come to the campus if you would like an escort to keep the jackals at bay.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that!” she waved her hands frantically, as though she could disperse the idea like a fog of perfume. “I couldn’t impose like that.”

He grinned, and she wasn’t sure she liked the mischievous glint in his eyes. “I did not say I was doing it for free. We could make a trade of sorts. There is something I would very much like from you.” She raised her eyebrow at him, leaning back and wondering if he had meant that to come out as salacious as it had. He seemed to realize at the same time what it sounded like, and he laughed brightly. “Not _that._ Don’t worry, I prefer tall, handsome, and broody.”

She laughed and breathed a sigh of relief at the same time. “My mistake.”

“And your loss.” He winked at her, which only made her giggle again. “I’m very charming, once I stop putting my foot in my mouth every time I speak to a cute boy. In any case, that is not my point. What I would like from you is that I would very much like to accompany you while you sing sometime. You…seem to understand the music better than others I have heard. It was very captivating.”

“Oh! I’m nothing special, really. It’s not even my focus, but…well, even before my violin was murdered I couldn’t play worth a damn because I injured my wrist.” She held up the offending limb, the faintest traces of the bruises still fading on her skin.

“The death of a violin? Murder most foul.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, looking at her carefully. “I will like to hear that story later, I think. For now, I will hear none of this nonsense about your skill. You have a very singular talent, you should be proud of it. Don’t let petty people make you feel small when you have such a grand beauty in your soul.”

She snorted out an undignified laugh, but she couldn’t help it. “Wow, Russia really knows how to make ‘em poetic.”

He chuckled at that, and it had a certain musical quality about it that she enjoyed. “I am an outlier.”

The door in the back opened, interrupting their conversation, and she was relieved when Saeyoung stuck his head around the door. “You know, you really shouldn’t be late anymore. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.” He opened the door and walked the rest of the way into the room, and she stepped around Aleks to rush into his waiting arms. He pulled her tightly, spinning her around and giving her a breathless kiss before setting her back on her feet. She grabbed his elbow, dragging him over to stand in front of Aleks.

“Saeyoung, this is Aleks. He was my knight in shining armor today. Aleks, this is my boyfriend, Saeyoung.”

Aleks held out his hand, and Saeyoung leaned forward to take it, the pair of them sharing a firm shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Saeyoung.”

“Likewise. So, knight huh?” Saeyoung looked down at her, his grin irrepressible.

“Yep, he drove Liara and Jen off like they were dragons. He’s very chivalrous.” She grinned at Aleks, who seemed pleased at her assessment.

Saeyoung giggled. “Zen is gonna throw a fit that he’s been replaced.”

She slapped his shoulder, forgetting that he was still technically healing, and he made a show of crumbling in pain, wincing away from her. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry babe!”

“Oh no, woe is me! I’m going to need an entire extra surgery! I think my arm is falling off! Quick, I need mouth to mouth - Ow!” she grabbed his earlobe and tugged it before he could continue, and he sulked for half a second before plastering the grin back on his face and wrapping his arm around her once more. He looked to Aleks, nodding his head. “Thanks for standing up for her.”

“It was an honor.” Aleks bowed, although he smirked while he did it, because he seemed to enjoy making her roll her eyes.

“Seriously, though, I owe you a drink or something.”

Aleks straightened, shaking his head. “I will accept nothing at all from you until Nicky agrees to sing while I play.”

“Oh, a barter system. I like it.” Saeyoung winked at her, and she rolled her eyes again.

“He wants to escort me around campus to keep the jackals at bay.”

Saeyoung raised an eyebrow, excitement burning in his golden gaze. “And?”

She looked at Aleks, considering him. He was smirking, in a way that only men with far too much snark were capable of, but there was no derision to it. He seemed kind, and genuine, and that was something that she could use to get her through the last week of school. In fact, that was something she could use in the coming semester, and the following senior year, assuming Aleks ended up willing to put up with her for that long.

“I suppose having a friendly face around campus wouldn’t be terrible.”

“So, you sing for me, and I will get you wherever you need to go without those girls bothering you. Does this sound like a deal?” he held his hand out towards her, and before she could so much as blink Saeyoung had grabbed her own hand and shoved it into Aleks’, shaking it up and down for them.

“For the love of god, yes, she agrees. Finally, somebody you’ll let help you.”

She glared at him, but Aleks laughed, his eyes shining. “I like your enthusiasm.”

“And I would like to take my girlfriend home now. Goodnight, ser Knight.” Saeyoung spun and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her and tossing her over his left shoulder. She laughed breathlessly, squirming as she tried to wiggle from his grasp.

“Saeyoung, wait.” He bounced her, and she dissolved into helpless giggles. “No, my bag!” she held her hand out, but Aleks was already on the case, picking it up from its resting place and jogging it over to her.

He smirked again, which made her laugh further. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Yes, oof,” she slapped Saeyoung on the back for jostling her, “Yes, tomorrow. Goodbye Aleks, it was nice to meet you!”

Saeyoung carried her out the door, but she saw her new friend wave before he was out of sight, shaking his head and laughing. She didn’t try to talk anymore as he carried her to the car, and when they reached their destination he dropped her and enveloped her in a slow kiss. It was followed by flushed silence as the got into the car, soft giggles as they glanced at each other on the way home. The apartment welcomed them with silence, and they collapsed onto the couch together in a tangle of limbs and kissing. They didn’t talk about the hospital yet, or about her classes or stress. They didn’t talk much at all, in fact, deciding instead that they wanted the comfort of the heat between their lungs before they recounted their days to one another. She was elated that she had met someone that wasn’t hostile towards her, and she poured that elation into Saeyoung, letting it mix with their love to soothe the aches of the day. The realization that she would make it was clear and strong, that she would reach the end of the semester without toppling into a pit of despair. She had found a lifeline, one that she could use that wouldn’t make the bullying and rumors worse. Better yet, she had made a friend, and that meant more to her than she knew how to express.

She was glad she hadn’t given up.

 


	85. I Think I Hear a Fedora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zen visits Yoosung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol don't mind me, I'll be giggling about the chapter title for the rest of my life. That probably isn't even the best line to use but idgaf.

He politely averted his gaze as Yoosung tried to convince Rika to eat. Zen knew that any help he offered would only wound the poor kid’s pride, so instead he spent his time pretending to be fully absorbed in his phone. His attention was split between the two, but Yoosung didn’t have to know that.

**ZEN: okay but how do you know you can trust this guy?**

**707: lol told you Zen would freak**

**ZEN: I** **’m not freaking**

**ZEN: But you just met him and you want to let him walk you around campus everywhere?**

**ZEN: Why couldn** **’t one of us just do that?**

**Nicolette: Because you** **’re all busy?**

Rika made a noise close to a growl that drew his attention, and he glanced up to see Yoosung standing next to the window with her, trying to coax her back into the chair. She had wandered over to stare at the sky again, and the only time her expression changed was when Yoosung put his hand on her shoulder to try and draw her away. He had noticed dark circles under Yoosung’s eyes, and as he watched his friend fight back tears, he wondered just how much taking care of Rika was breaking him. Zen thought about the pamphlets he had in his pocket, and he wished that he had brought them sooner. Yoosung glanced over at him, and he ducked his eyes back to his phone.

**Jumin: There was always the option for security guards.**

**Nicolette: I** **’m not having that argument again.**

**Nicolette: My Knight is good, I promise.**

**ZEN: How do you know he** **’s not just trying to get in your pants?**

**ZEN: Isn** **’t that all college guys do?**

**707: lol accurate, actually**

**Jumin: For you, perhaps.**

**707: lol whatever Jumin, you know you got around too**

**Jumin: I focused on studies, what did you focus on?**

**707: lol NOT STUDIES**

**ZEN: dude, your girlfriend is logged in**

**Nicolette: and perfectly capable of speaking for myself.**

**707: wait, weren** **’t we talking about the Knight?**

**ZEN: True, don** **’t avoid my question.**

**Nicolette: Look, he met Saeyoung, and knows we** **’re together**

**Nicolette: plus he** **’s gay**

**ZEN: oh, then maybe it** **’s okay**

**Nicolette: I stg Zen, if he weren** **’t gay you would still be trying to argue?**

**Nicolette: am I not allowed to have straight friends now?!**

**Nicolette: I think I hear a fedora calling your name right now**

**ZEN: DAMMIT**

Yoosung was murmuring quietly to Rika, and Zen couldn’t quite make out the words, but whatever he said seemed to be calming her a bit. She was allowing herself to be led away from the window and towards the plate of finger foods Yoosung had assembled for her. He got her in the chair, and even went so far as to turn it towards the window, then he lifted her arm and placed it next to the food. He watched her, waiting for her to move, and Zen know it would still be a couple of minutes before he could return to their conversation.

**Jumin: I would think Saeyoung** **’s opinion on the matter would be enough to settle your worries, Zen.**

**Jumin: He would be the one with actual cause to be jealous.**

**707: I trust Nicky ^^**

**ZEN: it isn** **’t about trust**

**ZEN: UGH, nevermind, I believe you**

**Nicolette: ^^**

**Jumin: Oh, good**

**Jumin: Zen has relented.**

**Jumin: Now all the world** **’s problems will be solved.**

**707: lol his chivalry was the only thing keeping us from world peace**

**Nicolette: Doctors were finally able to cure all diseases now that Zen** **’s anger wasn’t distracting them**

**707: This just in**

**707: all of the teams have won the Olympics.**

**707: Everyone gets gold.**

**Jumin: Every cat in the world has been adopted to loving homes.**

**Nicolette: Babies don** **’t cry anymore, and always sleep on time.**

**707: Computer viruses have been reprogrammed to deposit money in random bank accounts**

**Jumin: Consumption of cake no longer causes weight gain.**

**ZEN: I hate you guys.**

**Nicolette: <3 ^_^ <3**

**Nicolette: gotta go, I** **’m getting lunch soon with Ser Knight.**

**Nicolette: try not to bicker too much while I** **’m gone!**

**_Nicolette has left the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: Saeyoung, you truly trust this man?**

**707: lol that was a fast flip**

**707: relax, he** **’s harmless**

**Jumin: Perhaps we should arrange a meeting, to be sure.**

**707: chill**

**707: besides**

**707: I** **’m pretty sure you would scare the living hell out of him**

**ZEN: lol probably**

**Jumin: I am not frightening.**

**ZEN: You** **’re capacity to have no emotions is terrifying.**

**ZEN: And how much you love that furball.**

**707: ~ELLY~**

**Jumin: Please stop shortening her name.**

**Jumin; And please do not name any further robots after her.**

**ZEN: lol I would think you would love a fellow robot**

**707: ~Juuuuuuuuumin**

**707: let me come play with Elly again**

**707: you saw, I was so good last time I came over**

**Jumin: You kept looking for her out of the corner of your eye.**

**707: lol maybe**

**ZEN: You are so weird.**

**707: Jumin, please? Pretty please? I** **’ll bring Nicky, and you guys can play while I play with Elly.**

**ZEN: DID YOU JUST COMPARE HER TO A CAT?**

**707: lol no, why would you say that?**

**ZEN: YOU JUST SAID JUMIN COULD PLAY WITH HER**

**Jumin: You** **’re obscene.**

**Jumin: I** **’m leaving now.**

**_Jumin has left the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Jerk. He** **’s the one that’s obscene.**

**707: I knew I should have looked harder for Elly when I was over there**

**707: I could have stuffed her in my jacket**

**707: I could have had her all to myself**

**ZEN: Dude, you can** **’t get the girl and the cat**

**707: LOL**

**707: probably true**

**707: I did make the girl a cat though**

**ZEN: Saeyoung, you** **’re a fucking idiot**

**ZEN: And I have no idea how you ended up with a girlfriend**

**707: lol**

**707: me either**

**707: except I can do this thing with my tongue**

Zen closed the app and put down his phone, _completely_ uninterested in whatever Saeyoung had been about to type next. Rika was still refusing to eat, and he could tell that Yoosung was losing his patience.

“Rika, you already refused to eat breakfast, you have to eat lunch. You can’t just stare out the window all day.” He glanced over at Zen, his cheeks turning pink, the embarrassment rolling off him in waves. “Sorry, I did warn you lunch wasn’t the greatest time to come over.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He flipped his hair over his shoulder, flashing the same grin to Yoosung that had gotten him a part in this play. “This was the only time I could make it. I’ve got rehearsals from pretty much now until the opening.”

Yoosung picked something off the plate and tried to hold it out to Rika. The angle of his body inadvertently blocked her view of the window, and it was like a switch flipped inside her head. She grabbed Yoosung’s arm and wrenched it downward, sending him toppling to the floor with a loud thud. Zen was on his feet a second later, just as Rika was trying to get out of the chair, and he stepped around Yoosung to place his hands on either side of Rika’s face. She brought her arms up and dug her nails into the back of his hand, and he grimaced.

He started singing _You are my Sunshine_ in French, just like she had used to at the end of his performances, and her eyes lost their angry haze as the familiar tune passed through his lips. It was more painful than he expected to sing this to her, and he stuttered over some of the words. He could still remember how special he had felt when this had been the way she told him he had done a good job. Always this song, always in French, and always with a bouquet of bright daffodils. Yoosung clambered to his feet, watching them closely. He sang all the verses that he could remember, and she smiled in an abstract, empty way as she listened. When Zen finished he let go of her face, taking a step back. His heart was pounding in his chest, and Yoosung was breathing heavily as they both waited to see if she would remain calm.

She didn’t.

She turned and started running full tilt towards the window, and now Zen could see a massive crack running along the middle that he hadn’t noticed before. Not the first time she had sought escape, then. She didn’t make it far enough, as Yoosung grabbed her around the middle and jammed something into her shoulder. She gurgled out a sharp cry of pain, then fell limp in his grasp.  He picked her up without much ceremony, carrying her back to her bedroom as Zen stared with his jaw dropped. He looked like he had done this before. All this was a process that had repeated so many times it was rote. His eyes were aimed at the floor, his cheeks bright red, and Zen knew that if this was a common occurrence, Yoosung hated it more each time.

When Yoosung returned his eyes were glowing with tears, hanging to the ends of his lashes as he refused to let them fall. “Sorry, you can just drop off the tickets and go if you want. You don’t have to stay.”

He sighed, walking across the apartment with purposeful strides. He grabbed Yoosung, yanking him into a hug as the smaller man yelped in surprise. “You didn’t tell me it was _this_ bad.”

_Ah, there they are._ The tears were falling now, and Yoosung shuddered as he let his emotions run wild. “What am I supposed to say?”

Zen rolled his eyes. “You could start with ‘I need help’ and then move on to more complicated things after that.”

“Of course I need help, but I can’t ask you guys to do it, and I don’t have anybody else to turn to.” He sniffled, stepping back out of Zen’s arms and wiping his eyes.

“Why would you think that? I would _love_ to be able to help.”

“Because everyone’s mad at her. I know you guys say you aren’t, but _I_ _’m_ still kind of mad at her for everything that she did. She’s my cousin, though. I’m the only family she’s got.” He walked across the room and sat at the table, a miserable heap of blonde highlights and saltwater. Zen followed, taking one of the other chairs and pulling the handkerchief out of his pocket to hand to him. It was normally only used on women, but since he wasn’t much in the wooing game these days he might as well put it to use on a friend.

“Yes, I’m still mad at Rika. But I’m not mad at _you._ ”

Yoosung took the small white cloth, bringing it to his nose and honking into it. “Thanks, Zen. But what is there to do? I can’t send her back to that hospital, she’ll just get worse, like Saeran.”

Zen frowned, because that was a whole other problem they would all have to figure out how to tackle together. Before he might have left them all to their own devices to deal with things, but Nicky had made them a family, and he would be the best damn brother this family had ever seen. Everything he had never had. Which meant helping them all overcome their ridiculously complicated problems before they sank back into the stubborn habit of not telling each other about anything because it hurt to much to say it out loud.

“I have something that…well, here, just look.” He dug into his coat pocket, pulling out the tickets to his show alongside the pamphlets, handing all of it to Yoosung at once. Yoosung took the tickets and set them aside, turning over the pamphlet to look at the information.

“Alaska? Are you insane? I can’t go to Alaska with her.” He shook his head, already starting to set the paper down.

Zen shot his hand out, stopping him and making him take another look. “Not both of you, just Rika. It’s an intensive program, and it’s supposed to be good for cases like hers. My director has a cousin who went through it, and he’s doing much better now.”

He wanted to believe, Zen could see it in the small tremble in his lower lip before he clenched his jaw tighter. “I can’t just ship her off like she’s old garbage. She needs to be around family.”

“She needs help. She needs help from people that know what’s wrong with her and all the treatments that could make her better. You love her, Yoosung, and nobody doubts that, but you don’t know enough to take care of her.”

He glowered, but it lost its effect when a tear rolled down his cheek. “I can learn. I can handle this. I’ll figure this out. I can’t bear to send her away, so I’ll have to manage.”

“What about Anna?”

Yoosung froze, staring at the table. Zen had hoped he wouldn’t have to play that card, but if Yoosung wasn’t willing to listen to sense for his own sake, maybe he would for hers. They both knew that Anna was in this for the long haul, and Zen knew how understanding she had been of everything so far. The poor girl was smitten with Yoosung, and she would have supported him no matter what. She would also let herself get dragged through hell with him as Rika took her toll, and Anna deserved better than that. Zen knew it, Yoosung knew it. Shit, Anna probably knew it too, but she wasn’t about to be the one to step away.

“You’re right. I can’t…I can’t take her down with me, and I can’t give her up.”  He exhaled slowly, opening the pamphlet to read the information inside. “When would we need to…?”

“The seventeenth.” Zen winced as Yoosung looked up, angry again, and he held up his hand to keep him from shouting. “Listen, I know that’s really soon, but isn’t it better to get her help as quick as possible?”

Yoosung’s shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his eyes. “Okay. Can you…would you talk to the others? In case they wanted to say goodbye, or something.”

Zen smiled, standing up so he could walk over and pat Yoosung on the shoulder. “We’ll all be there to see her off, I promise.” He reached over to the table, and slid the tickets across the polished cedar so that they were in front of his friend’s face. “Don’t forget about these. You can take Anna on a real date, dinner and a show. I think she’ll love that.”

For the first time since Zen had arrived, Yoosung smiled a genuine smile, picking up the tickets and looking at them like they held limitless possibilities. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he had been able to win him over and give him something to look forward to.

“I have to go, or the director will murder me for being late. Will you be okay when she wakes up?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Zen.”

Zen winked at him, walking himself to the door, and Yoosung called out a squeaky farewell as he closed it behind him. He was happier, though, and that meant a lot. He was not so bad at this big brother thing, after all.

Nicky had found somebody she was willing to let protect her, even if it wasn’t any of the RFA. Jaehee was almost off her crutches, and spending most nights at his apartment, which was a greater delight than he had words to express. Now Yoosung wouldn’t be murdering himself slowly trying to care for the woman they all used to idolize. Things were beginning to shape up into something that no longer resembled misery. 

If he could only find a way to pull the stick out of Jumin’s ass, or smack some sense into Saeran, then everything would be right as rain. He wouldn’t worry about those obstacles today, though. Rehearsal first, then he could be the RFA’s personal savior. One miracle at a time.


	86. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which recovery seems impossible.

He was outside. Always, always, _always,_ he was outside. Sitting by the door, whiling away the minutes of both their lives like he had extra to spend. It made his skin crawl to know he was out there, just out of view, too close to be out of mind and too far to be within earshot. He wanted to scream, but he was so tired. It took so much effort to be so angry, but the alternative was worse. Emptiness.

Empty, empty, _empty._

The sky was a blank slate every day. Someone had said it was December, so it must be snowing. He couldn’t see the ground. He never looked down, anyways. He just stared at the big, wide open above him, wishing that he could join the clouds and float away. Were clouds angry? Did they have regrets when they danced around the mountain tops? They carried snow. That would be cold. Did the fingers of the gods grow chilled beneath the frost and wind? Did they prod the clouds onward with frostbitten touch, to send white blankets of frigid hush to cover the world? They could wipe the world of color, making it empty. Empty and cold. He could relate.

The grey sky was cold outside his window, but outside his door was flaming heat. Rage, churning in the too-bright hallways beneath the clickety-clack of the nurse’s shoes. They brought him hot food and hot stares each day, and every time his brother would be out there, poking his head in with a look of longing on his face. His face, like a mirror that reflected what could have been if Saeran had been on the other side of the coin. They had been flipped, tossed in the air like a filthy penny whose copper was so tarnished the letters had faded, and fate had assigned them an upside and a downside. One of them saw only darkness, while the other one had full view of the sun. Why was he still out there? Why did he persist against the worst things Saeran could think to say? Always, always, _always._

Death would be kind. His bones would stop aching, he would no longer be forced to endure the frigid methodologies of the therapist. The unkind treatment from the nurses. The squeak of the linoleum when they ran in to sedate him. They did it more often when Saeyoung was gone, and it was one more reason to hate him. Saeran preferred the sedation. The prick of the needle like the bite of a spider, ushering him into unconsciousness, into dreams. In sleep he saw the bright eyes of people that could have loved him, and in those dreams they never blinked. They never blinked and so he never disappeared. So many people were there, as well. His mother, full of light instead of alcohol. His brother, never leaving, never wavering. The Savior and the girl who broke her, no longer at opposite ends of the spectrum of light. Others. There were others that had spoken to him with soft voices when his body had refused to stop shaking, who had followed the stars to save them from the gates of paradise. They had stopped coming to see him after a time, because he hated them when he was awake, but in sleep they weren’t afraid of him. In sleep the man with the mint eyes had never been at the end of the _click_ pulled trigger _boom_ and the screaming _screaming_.

When he awoke, he had that much less of his life to endure, and that was a reward of its own, as well. Death would be better, but since no one would grant him that peace he would accept dreams in its stead.

Death. Dead. Dying.

He was dying. Slowly, minute by minute. He emptied his thoughts into the sky, and they were like grains of sand, given freely to the wind. Soon there would be none left within him. Empty. The only grains he had left to him were sorrow and rage. The only grains he had ever had were sorrow and rage. Anger, fury, violence, the click of the gun in the palm of his hand, the screaming. Those were always part of him. The tears in her eyes when she had watched him die, the tears in her eyes when he had told her to get out. Two different girls, two different times. They were so different. Night and day, really.

Not dead. Neither of them were dead. He had pulled the trigger and hit a man, and both kinds of light remained in the world. He had just wanted the sun to set, but he had missed. He had missed and hit the moon. He had failed. He had failed the minute he had fired. He had failed the minute he took the gun in his hands. _Screaming._ In his head, they were all still screaming. Always, always, _always._

He wanted quiet. He wanted his own heart to stop making that hideous thumping against the threadbare edges of his ribs. His skin was hollow, his bones were sallow, backwards and wrong for every inch. He was yellow and fading and weak. He could clench his fist and make the tendons bulge, and the veins pulsed against the surface of his flesh. No matter how many times he asked, his heart never stopped beating.

He had begged. He had begged and pleaded. For all that their eyes spoke of mercy and kindness, neither of them would let him die. Selfish, really. Selfish of them to ask him to carry on after the life he had lived. Had he not endured enough? Had he not shouldered the burden of enough minutes in this miserable existence? _It wasn_ _’t your fault. You have the sky inside you._ He had lived enough pain for a thousand people, and that was all he had. Anger and pain, pain and anger. Dancing in circles that curved and never ended. It was better than the emptiness.

_Kill me._ It was a chant in his head on an endless loop. Click, boom, the screaming, _kill me._ Everyone could live but him. He had ended someone, and so he should end. It was only fair. He was too far gone. He was too empty. They should cease the beating of his heart so he could fill with the silence he so desperately craved. He had been searching for that peace since before he could remember wanting anything else. It had taken him years to realize that death would be that, the sweet release to quiet the screaming in his soul. He had stayed for the Savior. He had stayed for _her_. He had still wanted the silence, and she had given him tastes of it, licks of quiet on the end of a green vial. He had always craved more. Always, always, _always._

The door to his room opened. He didn’t turn, but he could _feel_ his brother looking in as the nurse dragged his lunch along on the rattling tray. Clickety-clack, her shoes on the tiles. The door shut, and Saeyoung’s eyes were locked behind a layer of wood that was too thin. It was too late, regardless. The fury was alive in him, the snake of rage coiled around his innards like the serpent of the world, no head and no tail, no beginning no end. Eternities of scale and boiling venom, squeezing him until he couldn’t breathe. Always, always, _always,_ tighter and stronger and mightier. He was so exhausted from the choking fury.

The nurse was talking, but the words were a thousand miles away. He was too tired to go find them. He was tired of the weight of reality. Heavy, hurtful, horrible. He was a poem whose lines were thick on the paper, ink bleeding through the pulp to stain the desk below. He had done terrible things. He had killed a man, he had hurt people, he lashed out with wounding words designed to destroy their targets. He sought to tear the stars out of the eyes of everyone that showed him kindness, ripping them apart like ratty sheets. He was poetry and they were deaf and blind, fumbling at him like his bruises were braille and could be discerned by the tips of their fingers. He didn’t want them to know, he didn’t want them to understand. He had done terrible things. He had killed a man. He had become everything about the world that he hated, and he knew it. He knew it, and he hated himself. Always. Always. _Always._

“You’re not even going to talk anymore, are you?” the nurse’s voice dipped low, drawing him out of his reverie. She was sneering as she prepared his food, and she had green eyes like sea-drunk diamonds.

_“Have you nothing to say?”_

_“I’m sorry, my Savior.” He kept his head bowed low, his hair hanging over his eyes. It didn’t matter. She could see him. She could taste his shame in the air that they breathed, air that he was unworthy of because he had failed._

_“You return with nothing to show for your little venture? You lost the disc. You revealed your hand, and now can no longer interfere with their plans. You gave them further reason to obsess with that little dove. I should rip her wings off and force them down her stupid throat.”_

_“I’m sorry, my Savior.”_

_“You’re sorry? You’re always sorry. Everyone is always sorry. I have given you time, love, resources. Why can you not match him? Why am I presented with the lesser twin?”_

_He was crying, big tears full of things he tried to hide falling to the floor, pooling together against the golden marble._ _“I’m sorry, my Savior.”_

_“So I heard. Go, take your medicine. As you drink it, remind yourself of the price of failure. Remind yourself what I will do to you if you disappoint me again. If you continue to be the lesser twin, I will take your medicine away, and you will know what it means to suffer. Do not force my hand, Saeran.”_

_The medicine erased her words, and he forgot how much it hurt to fail. The only thing that remained was the need to do better, to please her. Save the Savior. It was his only purpose. He would not be the lesser twin._

“I don’t know why they keep you here. They should have shipped you off weeks ago.” The nurse smirked. “So disappointing.”

The angle was just right. He didn’t expect it to be, because when the rage exploded inside of his chest he had no plans for release. He lashed out, the snake uncoiling and controlling his limbs. He had not expected to accomplish anything.

He grabbed the edge of the tray of food, and threw it back at the nurse. It sent the cups of nutritionally balanced muck scattering across the floor, pieces of corn like daffodils blooming in the white linoleum snow. The edge of the metal tray crashed into the side of her head, and the angle was just right. He didn’t expect it to be, but it hit her with enough force that her eyes rolled before she fell. He leaned over the edge of the bed, staring at her as his breath lashed against his lungs, explosions powering the beating of his heart. There was screaming. She wasn’t screaming, but he was. There was blood on her temple. Clickety-clack, click _boom._ Eyes closed and empty of the stars, because he had ripped them away. The scales on his heart weren’t armor, they were leathery chains, coiled and coiling with no end or beginning. Other people were running into the room, one of them his other half. The side of the coin in the sunlight, trying to flip and deliver himself to the darkness. _Kill me._ He begged with the screams in his throat, pleaded with the clench of his fist as his sallow skin raked against his bones. They pinned his arms, and someone shoved something in his mouth. He could still hear the screaming, his and others, everyone. Everyone was screaming. The pinch in his arm, the sting of the spider, the web spreading in his veins to drag him into dreams. There he could while away the minutes, because he had so many to spare.

He breathed, easy as the darkness claimed him, as the people with the stars in their eyes stopped looking at him as though they wished he weren’t really there. It was quiet, and the anger was far away. He could not claim death, but he would gladly claim his dreams. He would pray that this would be the time he would not wake. He could dream of emptiness always.

Always, always, _always._

_Empty._

 


	87. I Never Would Have Taken it That Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky waits for Aleks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoi destroyed my entire soul so I added extra gay Russian adorableness at the end of this chapter. *aggressively writes more gay things because FUCK YOU KUBO* (ps I love Kubo and worship her but I am SALTY about that cliffhanger) (pps for anybody who doesn't watch Yuri!!! on Ice, DO IT)

She had just handed in the pages of her last written final, ending her long week. Long, although after Monday it had not been unpleasant, since Aleks had lived up to his promises. They had met after each of her classes, and he had been kind enough to help her prepare for her vocal final on the nineteenth. His opinion had been immeasurably valuable in perfecting the piece, and she thanked every lucky star in the sky that she had somehow managed to befriend the most talented pianist she had ever met. He knew music better than anyone she had ever met, and her song was improved by tenfold because of his tutelage. Better than that, no one bothered her when he was around. He was a graduate student, so he held considerable sway against all the undergraduates that flocked to bother her. Because of that he brought her more peace than she’d had since she returned. Actually, it was more peace than she had before she left, as well. More peace than she’d had in the months since Professor Capalli had ruined her life.

Her bag weighed heavy on her shoulder as she shoved through the door, the cold nipping at her face as the wind whistled around her ears. It looked like another snow-filled day, and she wondered if she should tell Saeyoung to avoid driving. She could always walk home after she had finished practicing. She had never much minded the cold, and she was probably going to fret about him speeding on the ice-packed roads. She sighed, because she knew there was no chance that he would actually listen, and her words would only fall on deaf and stubborn ears.

She found a bench along the walkway near where Aleks would be arriving and tossed her bag onto it, scooping off some snow and taking a seat herself. She checked the time, and she was a bit early, since the final hadn’t been as intensive as she had expected. Aleks wouldn’t be there for another fifteen minutes or so, but she didn’t mind the wait.

At least, she didn’t mind until she saw Liara making her way over to her. She was bundled in a coat and massive scarf, a dark purple cap hanging low on her head. Nicky considered running, or at least leaving in a less panicked fashion, but in the end she opted to stay. This was where Aleks would find her, and if Liara wanted to bother her then Nicky could endure it until her older friend arrived. It felt cowardly, but she had agreed to allow Aleks to help, and this was precisely the situation he kept showing up to campus to prevent.

Liara stopped in front of her, glaring down with her hands shoved in her coat pockets. She was scowling, and although Nicky couldn’t see her mouth behind her scarf she knew she would be frowning. “What did you mean? On Monday.”

“What?” That wasn’t what she had expected her to say.

“You said…your stupid violin. You said something about it.” Her brows were furrowed, and Nicky knew she was pouting. So, she was playing dumb? She was going to stand there and try to get a rise out of her by taunting her over her crime. She had a lot of nerve.

“You know what, fuck you, Liara. Go away. I am sick of playing your sick games. I’m meeting someone in just a few minutes, so just go find someone else to bother.” She angled herself away from the other girl, staring in the direction that she knew that Aleks would be walking from.

“’Meeting someone’. Yeah, I’ll bet.” Liara kicked a drift of snow, sending powdery ice across the ground. “So, you think you’re all high and mighty just because you came back with a boyfriend and a graduate student at your beck and call? I don’t even know how you seduced the gay one.”

She turned and glared at her ex-friend, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that really what you think I did?”

Nicky froze, blinking in surprise. She had expected more anger, more hatred, more spite. She hadn’t expected to see a tear trailing out of the corner of Liara’s eye.

“It has to be. It has to be what you did.”

“You’re seriously disturbed.” She wanted to slap her. She wanted to grab her and shake her until she was a decent person. Tears or no, she had tried to destroy Nicky, and she thought she deserved a little righteous fury over that. “I _trusted_ you. I expected you to believe me.”

Liara shook her head, violent and jerky. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“Then fuck off.” Nicky turned away again, refusing to glance back.

“What happened to your violin, Nicky?”

“You know what happened to it!” she didn’t turn to look. She didn’t dignify her taunts with the satisfaction that she would get by seeing the pain in her eyes.

“I need to hear you say it!”

“No!”

“Why?! I don’t understand.” Her voice was hysterical, rising in pitch. “I don’t understand what he saw in you. I don’t understand why…you stole him from me!”

“What?” now she did look back, her breath leaking out of her lungs as shock numbed her to the core.

“I was with him first. I loved him. I would have done _anything_ for him. And he…he still…I gave him everything, and he still wanted you…” she lost her words after that, sitting down on the bench and covering her face with her gloved hands. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, choking on her breath as tears slipped between her fingers.

Loved him? Of course. It would have been stupid to assume she had been the only student he would have targeted. She was no special snowflake, no magical paragon of desire. She was just a girl that had wanted to learn how to sing better, and there were so many at this campus like her. Countless, all of them bright and beautiful, all of them eager for their chance to get ahead. Music was competitive, and they had all fought tooth and nail to get here in the first place. They were all desperate for someone to tell them that they belonged. One man with words of butter and a handsome face could have ruled them all. Only Nicky had said no, and she must have been the first considering his reaction. She had ruined his whole game, but in doing so she had ruined all the girls that had believed his sweet nothings, whispered in their ears as he shoved his hand down their pants. She had been so wrapped up in her own story, so wrapped up in her own pain, that it had never occurred to her that others could have been entangled in it with her.

She wished she could go backwards and do so many things differently. “Liara…why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because he made me swear…” there was no longer any venom in her words. No longer hate. Only pain and loneliness. Weakness, a softness that had been turned against her by a predator that could smell her fear from a mile away. The weakness of a girl too young to know any better.

“I’m so sorry. I never knew. Liara, I swear, I didn’t want…I never would have…”

“I know. Shut up, stop apologizing already. I know I’m the shit one, okay? I’m the one that fucked up.” Her sobs interrupted the cadence of her words, but they still held the heat that she had always admired her for when they had been friends. Nicky wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and Liara turned and smashed herself against her chest, clinging to her like she hadn’t been hugged in months.

Just like that, she couldn’t bring herself to be angry anymore. Liara wasn’t a villain. She wasn’t some torturous mastermind that got satisfaction from destroying others. She was just another girl that had been broken, snapped in two by somebody else that had been broken before her, another link in the rusted chain. Nicky couldn’t hate her for that. She could condemn her for perpetuating the cycle, but she didn’t have it in her to hate someone who was sobbing in her arms.

“Liara, it’s not your fault.” She patted her on the back, feeling like she had been saying that same thing to a lot of people lately. It wasn’t her fault that she fell for a sick man’s tricks. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t cope with the loss of someone she had been in love with. Everything else was just consequences, and Nicky couldn’t even be angry enough to place blame anymore.

Liara sat up, wiping her eyes, more rage than sadness, which was heartening to see. “Shut up. Listen…” she stared at her hands rather than at Nicky, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I…I’m just sorry, okay?”

“I know.”

Liara stood, brushing snow off the back of her pants. She readjusted her scarf, then turned and started to walk away as Nicky blinked. She had always been a strange girl, so it was fitting she delivered strange apologies. Liara got about four paces away before she stopped. She didn’t turn, but she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes barely angled so that she could see Nicky.

“I didn’t break your violin. I never would have taken it that far. You should really be careful around campus. Don’t walk anywhere alone, okay?” then she took off, rushing away so quickly that Nicky didn’t have time to ask her what any of that meant. If Liara hadn’t broken the violin, who had? If Liara was sorry, who did Nicky have to fear on campus?

The snow crunched to her left, and she turned to see Aleks striding towards her, holding up his hand in greeting. He had a bright smile on his face, more exuberant than normal, breath rising from his face as he huffed into the cold air. She stood, smiling back at him and grabbing her back from the bench. She let her unease over Liara’s words fade into the back of her mind, because Aleks was just too happy to burden him with it.

“Dobroy utro, Nicky! How was your final?” he stopped in front of her, grinning as he swiped his hair out of his gaze. His eyes were crinkled at the edges with how wide he was smiling.

“Good! I’m pretty sure I passed.” She rocked back and forth on her heels, smirking at him. “You’re in a good mood today.”

He reached out and tapped his finger against the tip of her nose. “I’m meeting a cute boy for coffee later, so it is a good day.”

“Oh-ho, cute boys! Lucky you.” She giggled as he rolled his eyes.

“Eh, it is fun, but I think he is straight. It’s truly a crime.”

“Oh, a tragedy, for sure.” She bumped her shoulder into his, smirking. “Still, you’re cute too, I bet you could at least make him think twice.”

He tipped his head back, laughing so that his breath filled the air with wafting clouds of mirth. “If only. Come, enough about my helpless love life. You have practicing to do, yes?”

She nodded, and they headed towards the practice rooms. She forgot about Liara’s strange words, forgot about the weirdness of forgiving someone for making her life living hell for weeks. She focused instead on the present, where she could make music with a perfectly charming man. She focused on the future, where she could go home and fall into the arms of her doting boyfriend, and spend the evening listening to his heartbeat. She let the past fall behind her, because that was where it belonged. She wouldn’t let her old scars rise to haunt her anymore, wouldn’t let the ghost of the man that had hurt her and so many others keep lurking in the back of her mind, as though he hovered behind every corner. Nicky had a better life now, and it was time to stop fearing all the stops that got her there.

Moving forward was always better, and as she linked arms with Aleks to head to the practice rooms, she knew that was where she always wanted to aim. Forward, and onward, and always with the love of her ever-growing family.


	88. A Good Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aleks describes a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally shorter, lacking the entire beginning, but jacquie_bebop honored me by requesting a chapter update for her birthday. SO, I made this one a bit longer and a lot gayer, in her honor. 
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE!!!!!

He was not in the best of moods as he made his way across the frosty streets downtown. He would have liked to be more upbeat, but he had received what must have been the eleventh call from the hospital administrators demanding that Saeran be removed from their care. They were attempting to declare him unfit for treatment. They were giving up. No, that was inaccurate. They had given up long ago, and he had written very large checks in order to keep them as complacent as they had been so far. Saeyoung would have been furious if he knew exactly how much Jumin was spending on the matter, which was precisely why he did not disclose the amounts. Saeyoung should keep his savings for his future, for the life he wanted to build with Nicolette. Jumin could easily spare this expense, and since it was the only way he had to offer his help, he did not want the opportunity taken from him because his friend’s pride was greater than he let on.

He shivered as the wind drilled its way through his coat. Winter had made itself comfortable in the freezing air, and his business attire was ill-suited to combat the effects. He was relieved when he arrived at the small coffee shop, lit with a cheery glow behind the frostbitten windows. He reached for the door, and a small smile worked its way across his face as he saw Aleks sitting in the back, a pencil between his teeth as he peered at several pieces of paper spread out across the table. As he entered he was flooded with warmth, no doubt due to the steam-filled air, wrapped with the heady aroma of different boiling brews and caffeinated confections. He unwrapped the scarf from around his face as he headed back to the table, pleased to see a cup of coffee already waiting for him at the empty seat across from his friend. He glanced at the papers in the few seconds before Aleks noticed his arrival, and he could see music notes scribbled over straight-ruled bars. The pages were titled, and there were notes in the linings, but they appeared to be written in Russian, so Jumin couldn’t decipher them.

Aleks glanced his way, and his eyes slipped over his pages one more time before they returned to Jumin. He smiled, his hands shuffling the paper out of the way and tucking them into his bag with, offering no explanation as to the nature of his project.

“Jumin, hello. How was work?”

He took his seat, grinning even though he was about to complain. “Irritating. My assistant has returned from vacation recently, and I feel like she is discovering new things for me to take care of just to spite me.”

“Hm, I wonder what reason she could have to spite you.” Aleks smirked, covering the expression with a sip of his coffee. “Do you perhaps demand perfection?” it was not an accusation, but a gentle prod for something that he could hardly argue with, since he heard the same often enough from the RFA.

Jumin chuckled. “Perhaps. No more than I ask of myself.”

“And when was the last time _you_ took a vacation?” his eyebrow quirked up beneath the frame of his hair.

“Quite some time, in fact.” He frowned as he tried to remember the last instance he had truly taken time off for himself. He had been absent from work more of late, but those were not for pleasurable reasons. All of his ‘vacations’ had been crowded with stress and worry, peril bearing down on the people he had discovered he cared about more than he would have liked to admit. The betrayals, his own folly, the danger that threatened their small family, the fallout once they had gotten to the bottom of it and escaped with their lives. Most of their lives. Now Saeran was still struggling to cope with his life’s grievances, and Saeyoung had put his own world in a stall trying to take care of him.

“Perhaps you should. You look like you could use a break.” Aleks was still smiling, and though he knew it was probably true, he was piqued at the statement nonetheless.

“Are you implying I look tired?”

Aleks choked on his sip of coffee, setting the cup down and turning a pleasant shade of pink. “No! Not at all, I just meant…you know what, forget I said it, you look marvelous.” He was staring at the tabletop, sulking, and it was a disarming thing to witness. Still, he enjoyed the reaction, and he wondered if he could get him to do it again through their verbal jousting. He cherished the leisurely hours when they could banter as such, teasing each other until one of them ran out of clever things to say. It inevitably ended in mild embarrassment on one end and smugness on the other, though they traded places for who came out on top.

He laughed, because there was no other response that he could think of to equal the sullen blush painted on his artist’s cheeks. “Relax, Aleks. No offense was taken.”

“You are very good at looking offended when you’re not offended, then.” Aleks pouted and glared at him, his eyes sparkling.

He bowed his head, smirking. “I apologize for my offensive face.”

“Oh, I am not taking _that_ bait.” Aleks grabbed his coffee and bag, standing so that he could glower down at him. There was no real anger in his gaze, though, the dance between them nothing more than posturing and jest. “Come, I have a need to play you something so you’ll shut up for a few minutes.”

“Oh?” Jumin stood, barely containing his laughter as he tried to keep his face straight. “So, I am unpleasant to look at _and_ listen to? I should apologize twofold, then.”

Aleks turned a shade of red that reminded Jumin of peppermint and warm tea, sweetened with sugar cane that tinted the cup with amber. “Fine. You’re devilishly handsome and you have a voice like fine wine. Satisfied?” Jumin blinked, his humor fading into embarrassment at how flattered he was by the rejoinder. He managed to nod, but he had no witty retort, so he kept his mouth firmly shut. He had lost this round. “Good, now can we go so that I can do something I’m good at rather than continue making an ass of myself?”

Jumin snorted out a giddy laugh as Aleks held his arm out, indicating that Jumin lead the way. He opted to hold his tongue as they both started walking towards the door, their half-finished coffees warming their hands as they stepped into the biting cold. They walked the three blocks to his apartment in easy silence, and Jumin found it neither awkward nor uncomfortable, as he might have in other circumstances. Usually situations involving prolonged lapses in conversation would set him on edge because of the other person’s nervous energy, tainting the air and ruining whatever peace could be found, but Jumin did not detect such things from Aleks. He always seemed very content when in his company, whether they were speaking or otherwise, which was a compliment that Jumin didn’t understand how to repay. One day, perhaps, he would be graced with an idea. One day he would know what it was that could make the lively musician happiest, and he would not hesitate to grant it to him.

When they arrived Jumin removed his heavy coat, and before he had even finished hanging it he heard the soft rhythm of padded feet racing in his direction. He turned to see Mishka just before she butted her head against his legs, and he felt honored that she had rushed to him before Aleks this time. Honored and perhaps a touch smug as he smirked at his friend, Aleks rolling his eyes dramatically in response. He leaned over and picked her up, knowing by now that the affectionate cat would not mind, scratching behind her ears as she started to purr. Aleks walked over and brushed his own fingers under her chin, dipping his head to kiss the tip of her nose in greeting. He grinned at Jumin as they both lavished her with affection, and Mishka was so overjoyed her eyes closed as she pawed at Jumin’s suit.

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but he clamped it shut again as Aleks snapped his fingers in front of his nose. “No, no more sarcasm from you. You go sit and keep Mishka company, and I’m going to play.” Aleks pivoted and waltzed to the piano, and Jumin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling at the display.

He followed his orders, wandering over to the couch and settling into the plush cushions, letting Mishka go so that she could curl up in his lap. Aleks took his customary seat, stretching out his arms above his head, making him into a long, graceful curve, like the branches of a weeping willow arcing towards the surface of a pond. He released the tension slowly, bringing his arms down and rolling his shoulders, tilting his head from side to side. He was silent, but Jumin felt as though he was already making music. As though he was always making music, his very presence a performance that Jumin could not look away from.

He placed his hands on the keys, hovering on the precipice of making sound before diving in, a hesitation that filled the room with fizzing anticipation. Aleks glanced up at Jumin without lifting his head, his eyes trained on him from beneath lowered lashes. It felt like the air became thinner, his skin tingling as though he had been submerged in a bath of champagne. There were many moments like this as they had grown acquainted. Moments where Aleks would look at him, and Jumin would feel as though time had stopped, the sand in the hourglass ceasing its gravitational dive because there was no longer any gravity to pull it onward. He didn’t understand these moments. He could no more comprehend them than he could grasp the strange movements to the music. He knew only that when they existed he felt carried away with them, tides of indescribable _something_ sweeping him along, into an abyss of color and the unknown. He could not understand them, this much was true, but that did not mean that he wanted them to stop.

Aleks began to play, and the music swallowed them whole. The song was not quite his normal thematic choice. Aleks tended to favor sad songs, with somber tones and minor chords. This one carried similarities, but where his others might have been bereft, this one felt wistful. As though the keys themselves were longing for something, calling out to it as Aleks brushed his fingers over their lacquered surface. Its pace had a slower build, as well. The initial measures were held longer, with a wider beat between them, so that it afforded Aleks time to glance at Jumin as he played. Jumin watched, enraptured as the musician moved, creating something soulful from nothing more than wood and wrapped metal string. The frequency of notes gradually increased, and the song’s heartbeat was one of wishes and hopes. It was the sparrow huddled in the bushes on a cold winter morning, searching for warmth as it missed the sky. It was the lone cherry blossom, falling to the stream and becoming lost in the currents, watching all its brethren dance on the wind. It was the last star in the sky as dawn overcame the night, looking down on the world before the veil of the sun stole it away. It was a melody of yearning, of gazing at something from afar, wanting only to close the distance and hold it close. It was beautiful. It was tragic.

Jumin did not close his eyes this time. Normally he rested as Aleks played, letting the sounds erase the rest of the world, painting vivid stories in his head. This time he did not. He watched him play, watched him move, watched the way his expression changed to match the music. He watched him dance with concentration, watched him court the emotions of the song and embrace them for his own. Jumin had always known on some level that this was what it was like, that this was how a master would perform. He had glimpsed it all those days ago, gaping into the window where the sounds of an artist’s heart were escaping into the world. He had been too self conscious to brave looking again, though, until this cold afternoon with the sound of lingering fondness still humming in the air. He had been stealing the music without paying proper due to its maker, and he regretted all the times he had missed such wonder. Aleks became the music when he played. It was beautiful. For this song, in this moment, it was also tragic.

Aleks finished, standing with a flourish to give his customary bow. Jumin tried to smile, tried to summon the ability to congratulate him on another stunning performance, but he found it difficult to do either. His eyes were stinging, and there was an ache in his center that would not abate, and he had no words to express why. _Words._ They failed him at every turn, never being what he needed him to be, never shaping into the things he needed to impart.

Aleks had walked across the room and flopped onto the couch next to him, which startled Mishka enough that she jumped off Jumin’s lap with an irritated trill. Jumin watched her scamper into the other room, tail swishing back and forth with indignation at the disturbance of her comfort.

Longing. The song had been about longing. What was it that Jumin was longing for? What was it that he was searching for when he awoke each morning, gazing in the mirror at a man that looked far more empty than he felt. He wished for happiness for those around him. For solutions to the problems that persistently plagued them. He wanted Rika to be better, not traveling to Alaska when the sun rose tomorrow. He wanted Yoosung to be okay, and enjoying his youth, regardless of Rika’s status. He wanted Zen and Jaehee to be healthy and happy for the rest of their days. He wanted Nicolette and Saeyoung to live the longest lives possible, filled with the love they shared. He wanted Saeran to be whole, to lose the scars left by Rika and those that came before her. He wanted to do something more effective than throwing money at these problems, but what more was he capable of? He was a rich fool, who knew nothing of what it would take to repair the damage that had been done to them. No amount of therapy could heal their wounds, and he was coming to accept the certainty that his own might remain weeping and bleeding for the rest of his days. He longed for something different, and the song reminded him of such, so now he couldn’t bring himself to speak, lest it all come tumbling out of him.

“Are you okay?” Aleks was smirking when Jumin looked over at him, sitting on the couch with his head tilted to the side so that his hair hung at an angle.

He sighed, feeling foolish for getting so carried away with his emotions in the first place. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you look like you could use a hug.” The statement was laced with sarcasm, but there was a sincerity there that made Jumin shiver.

“I am…not good at expressing myself that way.” He chuckled, and even he could recognize how bitter it sounded. “Perhaps I am not made for hugs.”

“Nonsense. Everyone’s made for hugs.”

“Maybe in Russia.”

“Ha! Less so, my friend. Seriously, though, you can’t tell me you have not had a memory of a really good hug.”

He raised his eyebrow, turning to face Aleks with a smirk that didn’t feel like a lie anymore. “What would entail a good hug?”

“Ah, a good hug is a thing of magic. When your arms wrap around someone, and it feels like…like bright light starts shining in your chest.” He closed his eyes, long lashes brushing against his skin as he smiled, half bemused and half nostalgic. “Hm, like you glow. You feel warmer, you feel stronger. You smell the person with you, and it makes them feel real. This is the kind of hug that lasts longer than a few seconds, that is more important than the quick things you get from family. A good hug is one that you hold on to for as long as you can, because you don’t want to be doing anything else. Then, when you pull away, because eventually you must, sometimes it stays on your skin, still warm long after it’s gone.”

Jumin listened, his heart skipping beats so that each second felt as though it slowed or stopped or had never started at all. _That._ He wanted that, everything that was evoked with Aleks’ wistful words. He wanted it more than the song had wanted to fill the room with meaning. He wanted it with a desperation that took him by surprise with its sudden arrival. More importantly, and perhaps more pertinent, he wanted it immediately. With the musician sitting beside him, eyes closed and the barest twitch of longing in his expression.

Aleks sighed, opening his eyes and gazing at the floor. “I have not been hugged like that in a long time. I didn’t have many friends back in Russia, so not many hugs could be shared.”

That was what undid his resistance. He simply could not bear the sadness in Aleks’ eyes.

 Jumin leaped across the couch and pounced on him, throwing his arms around him as he yelped in surprise. He went rigid for a moment, and Jumin was worried that he had overstepped his bounds, but after the span of a single heartbeat Aleks seemed to melt into him, burying his head into Jumin’s shoulder. Jumin curled his fingers into a loose fist against Aleks’ back, letting everything else go as he tried to attain the mythical hug that Aleks had described, to locate the mysterious perfection that had passed across the artist’s lips.

Then, all at once, he knew he had found it. He felt the light, filling his chest like sun beams cascading through the rainbow angles of a crystal. He could feel it spreading through him, warm in a way that was better than blankets and tea on a frigid day, better than a hot shower after hours of work. Aleks smelled like pine trees, standing tall and defiantly alive on an unforgiving mountainside. He held him tightly, not minding the pressure because the closeness left him senseless. He felt as though he had been missing pieces, missing parts that everyone else in the world possessed from birth, yet somehow Jumin lacked, lost over the years just as he had lost himself. With this small thing, this single embrace, one of those pieces was returned to him. He felt like he was more than himself, like he had meaning and purpose beyond his own limited reach. He felt home, yet also like he had left the world and was flying amongst the stars.

He held on until embarrassment managed to work its way into his mind, then he let go, retreating some distance away across the couch. He felt his cheeks burn, wishing that he had not been so exuberant, yet incapable of regretting the result.

“Sorry, I just…I didn’t like to think that you missed being hugged.” He muttered the apology at his shoes. He spared a glance at Aleks, and the sight demanded his gaze so that he couldn’t look away. Deep sea eyes were wide and staring, his lips parted the barest breadth of an inch, his cheeks flushed with a dazzling crimson. His hand was curled into a fist against his leg, and Jumin noted the small tremor that passed through it.

“Thank you.” No man had ever poured more sincerity into two simple words. He opened his mouth to say more, but Jumin’s phone started ringing in his pocket, and Aleks seemed to deflate at the interruption. He sank back into the couch as Jumin irritably fished out the device. He was fully prepared to disconnect the line and reject the call, but the number on the screen kept him from giving in to the impulsive urge.

He clicked the answer button. “Hello.”

“Mr. Han. I apologize for calling you yet again today, but the administrators have reached a decision regarding the patient Saeran Choi.” The hospital clerk on the other end of the line sounded smug, and he knew that there was no check that he could write to change what she would say next. “We have determined that he is too unstable to keep in our facility. We will be requiring his removal within the week. It is our recommendation that you commit him to a permanent psychiatric facility.”

He glowered at the empty space in front of him in lieu of the disembodied voice in his ear. “Your recommendation is both noted and unwelcome. We will make the necessary arrangements for his continued care.”

“Very good, Mr. Han.”

“I would like to make my own recommendation, if I could be so bold.”

“Sir?”

“Continue his care to the best of your abilities until such time as we have removed him from it. I will ensure you face dire consequences, should any neglect be shown beyond the that which you have already pretended I had not noticed.”

He didn’t wait for her response, disconnecting the call and shoving his phone back out of sight. He ran his hands through his hair, looking over at Aleks. He looked a million miles away, a wooden smile plastered on his face. Jumin hated it, but he did not have time to sort through what had caused it or how to fix it. One crisis at a time, that was all that was within his capacity, and Saeran was the more pressing issue. He would need to go speak with Saeyoung and Nicolette immediately.

“You look like you have to go.”

“I do.” He stood, turning and walking towards his coat without further preamble. There were so many things this would complicate. The therapist had sworn she would not continue to see Saeran outside the walls of the hospital. They wouldn’t be able to transport him back and forth unless he calmed down considerably. Then there was the matter of where he could stay. Saeyoung would undoubtedly take him in, but where would that leave Nicolette? They had been inseparable since their return; would she be despondent if she had to step away from his side?

“Is everything alright?” Aleks trailed behind him, too much light in his eyes and too little laughter on his lips.

“It will be, I’m sure. I apologize for the abrupt departure, but thank you for the performance. It was impeccable, as always.” He was busy donning his things as he spoke, and so he did not know if his compliments cheered the musician or not.

“Anytime.” His voice sounded flat, and Jumin felt unending frustration that he could not investigate the cause.

He opened the door, striding out into the hallway in a rush, but before he had completed his exit he stopped. He turned, leaning around the edge of the threshold, holding onto the frame for balance.

“Aleks?”

“Yes?” he looked like the song that he had played moments ago. He looked like he carried it with him, baked into his bones so that it moved with him and spoke with him and clung to the shadows in the middle of his eyes.

“Thank you, for…for the hug.”

Then Jumin left, rushing to contact his friends and handle yet another crisis that none of them deserved. He heard the door close behind him, and he hated the sound. The music was just on the other side, and Jumin wanted nothing more than to listen, even if all that meant was sitting in silence with the musician until his smile no longer felt like a replica.


	89. Hey, I Look Festive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Christmas-y things are happening until Jumin interrupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed a day, I had a busy day yesterday and then blew off writing to go see Rogue One (it was very good I cried a lot because I DIDN'T KNOW, OKAY???). Anyways, have some Christmas fluff. 
> 
> There is also beautiful, wonderful, adorable art at the end of this chapter drawn by my good friend http://sakoyo.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> She drew it for me as a thank you because I enabled her MM addiction. Go follow her or send her a message on tumblr and tell her she is AMAZEBALLS. BECAUSE LOOK HOW CUTE THAT ART IS.

He was wearing a Christmas hat. It was bright red, and fluffy, with a puffy white ball at the angled tip. It hung over the side of his face, bouncing against his cheek as he grinned at her. He’d also managed to find a bright red vest to match the hat, and a green bow tie that popped against the collar of his shirt. There had never been a sight that brought her more holiday cheer than Saeyoung draped in Christmas finery. He was giddy as they hung the assorted ornaments on the three-foot tree, two cups of half-cooled cocoa behind them on the counter, the remnants of melted marshmallows still stuck to the rims.

She had not bothered with Christmas decorations since her father had passed away. When he had been alive, he had always made a big fuss about it, even though it had been just the two of them. When she was little she had loved it, and when she was older she had understood that he made a bigger deal out of holidays so that she wouldn’t notice the absence of her mother. She had loved that, too. After he had been gone, though, there was no one to decorate for anymore, except herself. The first year she had dangled a string of lights in her window, the entire time wondering if he would have decorated before she went home for Christmas break after her first semester at college, or if he would have waited for her to arrive and thrown everything up in a flurry. She had taken the lights down before the twenty-fifth had even arrived, because every time she had looked at them she would miss him too much. Holidays started to remind her of how alone she felt in this world, and decorating for one was like giving those thoughts a megaphone and letting them hold a grim parade.

This year, however, things were different.

In truth, the idea of decorating anything in Rika’s apartment had slipped her mind, forgotten in the chaotic shuffle of their lives. There were so many other things going on that putting up a tree or lights or glittering garland seemed ludicrous. She had changed her mind on the matter when they had been sitting in the restaurant at dinner, and she had mentioned that the lights hung all over downtown were beautiful, at which point Saeyoung had revealed that he had _never_ decorated for the holidays. That was a tradition she could not allow to stand. So, they had trekked to the store, picked out a small plastic tree and a handful of weird, mismatched things to place on it, and rushed home to right the grievous wrong of a twenty-two-year-old man who had never strung lights while listening to classical renditions of Christmas carols. It had brought a bit of glow back in his eyes, and for at least the short time that they had been working, he had been able to smile without the pain she knew that he was feeling over Saeran adding more shadows behind his gaze.

She walked over and wrapped her arms around him just as he was adding the last ornament to one of the few branches that remained empty. She pressed her cheek against his back as he let out a soft sigh of surprise, finishing with the decoration so that he could rest his hands over her own. He tried to crane his head around to look at her, and she grinned when he couldn’t quite manage the maneuver.

“Why are you back there where I can’t see you?”

“I love you, Saeyoung.” It wasn’t what he asked, but it was what she wanted to say. She felt his heart beat just a little faster, and it made her feel warm all over.

He lifted her hands so that he could turn around to face her, drawing her in for a slow kiss. The fuzz ball at the end of his hat bumped against her, tickling her cheek and making her giggle. He moved from her lips to the side of her face, raining kisses everywhere and humming with approval as she laughed more because her skin felt like glitter and lightning.

“I love you more.” He nibbled at her earlobe, making her shudder, and she was just winding her hands up the back of his neck and into his hair when they heard a knock at the door. Saeyoung pulled back, quirking an eyebrow at her, so she matched his expression. “Expecting anyone?” she shook her head.

He let her go, with one more parting kiss against her lips, and walked over to the door, peering through the small hole to see who was out there. He leaned back, raising his eyebrows before opening the door and speaking to whoever had arrived. “You look happy.”

Jumin strolled in as Saeyoung stepped aside, rolling his eyes. “You look ridiculous.”

“Hey, I look festive.” Saeyoung batted the ball on his hat, but Jumin didn’t pay him any attention.

_He_ looked miserable. He looked freezing, snow still clinging to his hair from walking outside, but his unrest looked like it went deeper than that. He looked upset, and even worse than that he looked frustrated, like he wanted to be somewhere else, doing something else. She could see the tension in his jawline, and she knew that he had not paid them a visit because he wished to help them decorate the tree.

“Jumin, how are you?” she hopped across the apartment and gave him a quick hug, hoping to lessen the strain of whatever announcement he carried with him, and he returned the gesture more fervently than she had expected. “Are you alright?” He let her go, sighing and brushing his hair away from his face. Saeyoung wandered over to stand next to her, reaching for her hand. His face was calm and collected, but the way his fingers shook as they twined with hers told her that he knew Jumin was the bearer of bad news as much as she did. 

He cleared his throat. “I’ve heard from the hospital.”

“Did something happen? Is Saeran okay?” Saeyoung’s fingers clenched around her own, and she squeezed them back, just as worried.

“He’s well, nothing has happened with him today. However, the hospital administration has been aggressive about demanding his transfer since the incident the other day. It seems they were finally able to obtain legal orders that give them the right to force us to remove him. We have a week to get him off the premises, or they will send him to a psychiatric facility of their choosing.”

“The hell they will.” Nicky snapped the words out before she knew what she was saying, and both men turned to blink at her, shock plain in their gazes. She felt herself blushing, and chewed the bottom of her lip. “What? Everyone that’s treated him so far should be fired. I don’t want anyone there picking where Saeran goes.”

“I concur.” The ghost of a smirk played across Jumin’s lips, but it was not enough to relax the tension in the rest of him. “Saeyoung, what do you wish to do?”

Saeyoung nodded, making his own internal decision, and she already knew what his answer would be before he gave it voice. “I’ll take him home with me. At my place, not here.”

“You understand the danger?” Jumin looked at Saeyoung carefully, but she did not miss the flick of his eyes towards her.

“I know, Jumin. Chill, Nicky isn’t going anywhere near it.” He turned to her, smirking, and she knew he was aware she had been preparing a protest before it had even fully formed in her head. “Yes, I know I made the decision for you, without giving you a chance to argue, but I’m not budging on this one. I will _not_ risk you again.” She fell silent, pouting, but she let him pull her into his side and plant a kiss on her cheek. She knew it was the wiser decision, in any case. She had said all she could to Saeran, and it had still made him angry. He had to work things out with Saeyoung if he was ever going to be able to move forward, and if she was around it would just complicate matters. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t fix everything.

“And what of you?” Jumin quirked an eyebrow at Saeyoung, his hands on his hips as though he were speaking to a child that was prone to misbehavior. “Your risk would be considerable, as well.”

Saeyoung set his jaw. “I can manage.”

“With help from all of us.” She added, narrowing her eyes at him.

He sighed. “I can take care of him on my own, I don’t - ow!” she reached up and tugged on his earlobe, stopping the protestations before they could make her angry enough to have a stroke.

“You’re going to not only accept our help, you’re going to _ask_ for it, whenever you need it. Or I’ll tell Vanderwood that you started doing the ‘headless chicken’ thing again.” She squeezed his hand to take some of the sting from her words while Jumin choked on laughter that he tried to suppress.

He blushed, which was how she knew she had won. “Alright, geez! You don’t have to tell Mom on me.”

“I’m with her on this one.” Jumin was smirking more sincerely now, so she counted herself lucky to have won two victories all at once. Whether it was Saeran bothering Jumin or something else, it was good to see him smile around whatever crowded his head.

“You _would_ be.” Saeyoung rolled his eyes, but without animosity.

“Saeyoung, should you require anything at all for his care, please do not hesitate to ask.” Jumin was full of intensity as he looked at his friend, and it made her happy to see that he cared so much about the twins. “For the time being, I will work on locating a therapist better suited to his temperament, and one that will make house calls. Please, allow me to take care of the expense.”

“No, you don’t have to, just finding them is enough.” Saeyoung waved his hand, and Nicky watched Jumin’s face fall. “I can cover whatever costs there are.”

Jumin looked at the ground, and in that moment she felt like she could see a lot more of his inner turmoil than he would normally show. Something had rattled him enough today that he was letting that damnable facade of calm slip, and she could see his desire to help underneath it, raw and hurting because he couldn’t figure out how. That was why he had sent her a bag of overpriced things when he had heard she didn’t have much at the apartment. It was why he had thought to buy her clothes and provide everything for her when she had stayed at his place after fleeing Rika’s. It was why he had done so many things for them behind the scenes, using who knew how much money to smooth everything over so that they could all try to recover from the ordeal without worrying about the mechanics of their bills and expenses. Zen often accused him of throwing money at problems, but that wasn’t the whole of it. Jumin gave his money up freely because it was the best way that he knew how to help, and he was now in a place that he desired to do that for all of them. He was learning to show it in other ways, but this was still the best way that he could say ‘I love you’ when the words wouldn’t come.

“I think Jumin covering the cost of the therapist will be fine.” Nicky blurted, carefully avoiding flinching as Saeyoung turned to glare at her. “It’s better that way, so you won’t have to worry about keeping up with the billing on time while Saeran is under your care. You can always pay him back for it, once things have calmed down.”

Saeyoung opened his mouth, then blinked and closed it, tilting his head to the side. “Okay, that makes sense. I can live with that.”

Jumin smiled at her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Leave everything to me. When do you expect you will be ready to take him home?”

“Hm.” Saeyoung puffed out his cheeks as he thought about it. “Well, I go in for the last correction on my shoulder after Zen’s play. I could just take him out with me once they’re done.”

Jumin’s eyebrows rose skyward. “Leaving so soon after the surgery?”

“It’s an outpatient thing.” He waved off the concern. “I’ll only be in a sling for about a week again until the stitches dissolve, then I can start physical therapy to build up my strength. I should only be under about an hour, so we should be home around midnight if we grab a cab.”

“Alright. If you send me the time, I can arrange to have a car collect you from the parking lot.”

Saeyoung smirked, glancing at Nicky. “I suppose I’m accepting that offer, as well?”

She grinned at him. “Yep.”

“Very well.” Jumin nodded. “I should go, I will need to get a start on the arrangements if we are to have them ready in three days. I…will I see you both tomorrow at the airport, before Rika departs?”

“Yes, we’ll both be there. Zen and Jaehee are coming, too, and Vanderwood promised to be around ‘for security purposes’.” Nicky rolled her eyes at the last part, knowing that Vanderwood was really only coming because Saeyoung had asked her to, since she was a part of the RFA now. She couldn’t blame her for still having hard feelings towards Rika, though. She hadn’t known her like the others had, all she had seen was the cruel girl who had wanted to tear them all apart. Of course, that was all Nicky had seen as well, but she understood the things that had destroyed Rika far too well to hate her for them. Maybe that was also part of her last and only gift to V. Forgiving Rika took more effort, but Nicky was capable of it. Most of the time, at any rate.

“Good, I imagine Yoosung will need the support. I’ll let you two return to…” his gaze looked Saeyoung up and down, smirking as he took in the bright and festive colors, “To whatever it was that required such an outfit.”

She laughed, flicking the ball at the end of Saeyoung’s cap. “Don’t laugh Jumin, one of these days I’m gonna make all of you wear one so we can have a nice Christmas family photo.”

Jumin’s face drained of color. “Surely a red tie would suffice?”

“Keep talking, I bet she’ll think of even _better_ hats for you.” Saeyoung grinned maliciously.

“Oh! Reindeer antlers!” she bounced on her feet, matching Saeyoung’s smile with one of her own.

“Oh, and a glowing nose!” Saeyoung hopped up and down with her as Jumin glared at them, and she could tell he was struggling between the urge to laugh or glower.

“Right. I’m leaving. Goodnight.” He nodded his head, walking towards the door, and they waved at his retreating back.

“Good night, Jumin the red-nosed chairman!”

Jumin winced, shuddered, and then made his way out much more quickly. When the door was shut they dissolved into giggles together, before Saeyoung swept her of her feet and carried her over to the couch. He turned and fell backwards onto it, groaning in protest as she bounced from the impact more than he had expected. She was perched in his lap, and took advantage of her position by turning to kiss him before he could catch his breath. She reveled in the rush of air between his lips as he tried to inhale and exhale at the same time without breaking contact. He succeeded, which was impressive, and wound his arms around her tightly, pulling her in to deepen the kiss. They spent several breathless, heady moments like that before he finally pulled away, letting his head fall back onto the couch with a small groan.

“You know you won’t be able to stay with me while he’s there, right?” she could hear the regret in his words, and knew that he hated the idea as much as she did.

She laid her head in the crook of his neck, snuggling in close. “I know.”

“I’m going to miss you.” He sounded broken and wistful, and she wished there was something she could do to make the situation less dire.

“We’ll still be able to talk in the chatroom and on the phone. You could always turn the security camera back on, too. It will be just like old times.”

He barked out a bitter laugh. “In the old times I was terrified you were going to blow up. Or that you didn’t like me back. Or that you _did_ like me back and that you were going to get hurt because of it.”

“Then it will be better than old times, because I’ll be perfectly safe.” She kissed the base of his neck, and she felt him smile in response. “I’m more worried that you’ll end up getting hurt.”

“I can handle it.”

She sat up, frowning at him. “I know you can handle it. You’ve been ‘handling’ pain all your life. That doesn’t mean I want to see it happen. You deserve a break.”

“Thank you for worrying.” He tipped his head up and kissed her temple, rubbing his hand along the length of her spine. “I promise I’ll take a break once Saeran is doing better.”

She settled back against him, sighing. “We all will.” She tried to imagine what it would be like when that happened. When they could add Saeran to their family, when Rika wasn’t a dark shadow looming over them all, either by tearing down Yoosung as he tried to care for her or by lingering in the scars that she had left in their hearts. How bad did the pain have to get before someone became like Rika? How bad would her own darkness have to be before all she could do was rail against those around her to try and dull the aching emptiness? Love hadn’t saved Rika. Love had made it worse, and Nicky knew without a doubt she did not want that for the people she cared about. “Don’t ever let me do what Rika did.”

“What?” the word was half laughter as he tilted his head to try and look at her incredulously.

“Don’t let me hurt people because I’m hurting.” There were tears building up behind her gaze, but they didn’t fall. Rika, V, Jumin, Saeran, Liara, all of them had fallen prey to it. She didn’t want to be that. She didn’t want to let darkness overcome her until she hurt someone that she loved. She didn’t want to be another link in the chain, making a fence of hatred that kept the people of the world from finding peace for fear of finding someone that would continue the cycle.

“You would never do that.” He kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer. “But I promise if it ever does come to that, I’ll do a better job than V. I’ll get you the help you need.”

“And you’ll ask for help from everyone else?” it was more pitiful than she had intended it to sound, but the plea was heartfelt because she needed to know that he would.

“Anything for you, space princess.”

She smiled, loving that nickname more every time he used it. “Okay. Ask for help for Saeran, too, not just me.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best.”

She sat up, looking at him carefully, searching his face for any sign that he might be fibbing to get her to stop nagging him. She needed more than that. She needed him to know exactly what she meant, because she was terrified that he was willing to destroy himself in the name of saving his brother, and she couldn’t stand the thought. She couldn’t lose him.

“Saeyoung, please remember that I love you, and that I need you in my life. I can’t be in this world without you. So, save Saeran, do whatever you can to help him out of the darkness, but…promise me that you’ll come back to me when you’re done. Take care of yourself, too, and come back to me.”

He blinked several times before a tear worked its way out of the corner of his eye, passing under the rim of his glasses to fall down his cheek. “Always. I’ll always come back to you.”

She kissed him, and she believed him. It was a promise that she knew he would keep, and she let her faith in it fill her to the brim and settle in her bones. She would need to hold on to it in the long days to come when she might not be able to see him. His warmth, his smile, his touch. All of that would be sacrificed to see Saeran get well, and she was glad to do it, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t miss him every second of every day. So she had needed that promise to keep her sanity, until she would be able to hold him again and know that their life together could truly begin.

_Always._ It was the only answer she could accept, and now that it was a promise she felt as though it might actually be true.

 

 


	90. I Wrote You a Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we say goodbye to Rika.

They draped themselves in the colors of daylight, to deny they gravity of the situation, to bring peace to those that needed it.

Not a single one of them wore anything dark as they stood in line at the airport, waiting to be allowed through the gates to take Rika to her flight. They looked as though they had each dressed for a picnic in the middle of summer, rather than a farewell in the dead of winter. Everything was bright, and cheerful, channeling the colors of the world when it was illuminated by the sun. They knew what she had always loved, and they did their best to honor that, regardless of the feelings each held in their heart.

Their expressions did not match their attire. All of them looked somber, mourning even though their friend was still very much alive. Rika’s pulse marched ever onward, but she was no longer with them. She had not been for some time. Perhaps she had left when V had died, perhaps she had left earlier. It was debatable if the girl they had loved had ever really been there at all, but Nicky chose to believe that she had existed. She had loved them, at one point, in her own way, and her fear of losing them had become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Waste not any trembling thoughts on doubt, for thoughts have power and can bend reality. When one dwells on the darkness they become it, and that had been Rika’s tragic fate.

Looking at the sorrow behind all their gazes, Nicky could understand a bit more why V had chosen to lie. Knowing the truth about Rika broke them all in different ways, and V had only wanted to save her before coming clean. He had failed, but Nicky forgave him again for that. They had all failed, one way or another, because V was dead and Rika was dying, a double loss that none of them could have prevented. Nicky wanted to leave the airport behind, to rush back through the doors and the gates, to wind her way through the city until she got to the hospital. She wanted to do more, to be more, to keep this from happening to Saeran. She didn’t want him to be another victim in the same chain of pain and suffering. She wanted better for him, better for Saeyoung, and better for the rest of the RFA. She couldn’t do anything, and she knew it, but her desire to try was overwhelming.

Rika had been right, in a way. In the end, Nicky was still helpless against the things she wanted to change.

As they led her through the airport, Rika gawked at the windows, reaching for the sun that was hidden by the early morning gloom. Yoosung guided her by the elbow, Anna trailing half a step behind them, hovering as closely as she could to her boyfriend in case she was needed. He glanced back at her, and a little bit of light made its way back into his eyes. Yoosung would be okay, as long as Anna was around, and that gave Nicky some comfort.

They reached the gate, and the caretakers were waiting to take over Rika’s care. They stood in a line and said their goodbyes, and Nicky was able to keep the tears out of her eyes until the last. Their farewells were stiff, stilted. Hugs that Rika didn’t return, sentiments that were left unsaid because they were no longer appropriate. The atmosphere was heavy, and it kept all of their true feelings in check, compressing them into tight balls of pain that they could unwind later. None of them were crying, until the very end. Until Jumin broke her heart with the look on his face.

He stepped up to her, and the confidence that he usually carried was shattered. His emotions were written on his face plainly; sorrow, regret, longing, love. Everything between Rika and himself was complicated, and painful. Nicky had assumed that this would be the hardest for Yoosung, but she had been wrong, so very wrong. Jumin was losing the last piece of a life he had thought would last forever. The last threads of a friend that had betrayed him too many times to count, but had been something better than that once that he could not forget. Jumin, out of all of them, knew the Rika that was closest to the real girl, and he had cared about her as much as he had cared about V. They had been so much to him that he had thought he would never need other companions, so much to him that when V had disappeared Jumin had been driven to darkness by the aching emptiness it had left behind. Nicky remembered tasting it when he had kissed her out of desperation, and now she could see it drawn across his face as though brushed with harried paint.

“I wrote you a letter.” His voice was low and grief-stricken, cracking around his words. He clutched an embroidered envelope in his hand, crinkling around the places where his fingers left indents. He lifted it, trying to smooth out the spots where the paper was no longer flawless, fidgeting with the edges. He held it out, and Rika stared at the sky, unwavering in her emptiness. He waited, a long stretch of time that was only seconds but felt like eons, before he finally took her hand, placing the letter into it. She held on to it, a small miracle Nicky would forever be grateful for, because she could not bear to see it fall to the floor and watch Jumin be forced to pick it up and hand it to her again. He let her go, stepping back, his eyes too bright and heavy to be anything other than full of tears that were refusing to fall. “Goodbye.”

Then Rika was led towards the boarding passage by the caretakers with kind eyes and smiles, and Jumin turned and walked away before she had even disappeared onto the plane. Nicky tried to follow him, but Saeyoung grabbed her hand, pulling her back and holding her in place.

He shook his head, his eyes on his friend as he faded into the crowd of people rushing to travel for the holidays. “Let him go, love. I don’t think you can make this one better.”

“I can’t seem to make any of it better.” She sighed, and he pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head.

“You make it better for me.”

She looked up at him, a smile spreading across her face, love overflowing from her heart. “I’m so glad.”

“Come on, space princess. Let’s see if anybody wants to grab breakfast, I’m starving.” He kissed her as he spun them around to walk towards the others, gathered in a loose circle and talking in hushed tones. Anna was tucked under Yoosung’s arm, and Zen was draped over Jaehee, finally free of her crutches. She was sad that Jumin couldn’t join them, but she tried to have faith that he would return when he was ready. She trusted that he would be okay, and that he knew that they were waiting for him if he ever needed their aid. His struggles were more complicated than her own, but she hoped he found his own sort of knight in shining armor to save him. If anyone deserved an ounce of rescuing, Jumin did.

*

_Dearest Rika,_

_I do not know if you can read these words. I do not know if you understand anything when we speak to you, or if you have truly left this world and moved on to better things, leaving behind a shell to remind us of what could have been. I find myself in the unpleasant position of having a great many things to say and no outlet with which to say them, and so I have settled for a letter. It feels like the coward_ _’s way, but when you look at me you no longer see me, and I cannot bear to say such things to your face if I am to remain invisible throughout._

_I once thought that I envied V. I thought that he must be the luckiest man alive to have found you, to have captured your heart for his own. You were the purest example of everything that a person should be. You were kind, and caring. You were elegant, and beautiful. Your smile graced the room, and everything around you paled in comparison. More than that, you were smart, and capable. You held some sort of magic in the way you moved, and it always made me stop and stare. You were the first woman to move my heart, and I remember clearly the way it used to break whenever you kissed V._

_When I was growing up, V was my world. He was something raw and indescribable, and while I still can_ _’t put words to what he meant to me, I know that it was so much more than it appeared. I used to envy him, thinking that he had you, and that meant that he had everything, but now I think it was the other way around. I think I envied you for taking V, for giving him something I never could, for putting a glow in his eyes that I didn’t understand. He was my one and only friend, and then he was far away, bathing in the light of your smile. I was happy for him even as I mourned for him, though now I know that true mourning is so much more._

_You killed him. I say this with as little malice as I can manage, but it is a truth that I feel should be addressed. You killed him with your love. You killed him because you refused to let those of us that cared for you ease your fears, refused to let us share your burdens. I am not good at many things, so I do not know what I could have done, but I would have cherished the chance to try. I would have been so happy to prevent the fate you chose for us all. Not only for your sake, but for his. To save V, to save the RFA. To save everything that I had once thought you stood for._

_Should you ever read this letter, know that I am sorry to have failed you. I am sorry that I learned how to care for those I loved too late to find my way out of the darkness. Perhaps one day you will come back to us, and I can introduce you to the real RFA. Nicolette made us real, made us whole, and showed us what we were capable of. Perhaps when you chose her, it was coming from the part of you that was still full of bright joy, a part of you that still cared for us the way I know you had. I choose to believe you sent us love in the only way that remained to you, and I thank you for it. I would be honored to welcome you into the family that we have become, and teach you the better ways that we have learned from the girl who was your final gift._

_You will always find friendship in me, my dearest, Rika. May that bring you some comfort, wherever you have gone._

_Love,_

_Jumin Han_

The words of the letter were burned in the back of his mind, and they rewrote themselves over and over again as he made his way home. The streets were cold as he walked to the car waiting for him. The car was as silent as a hearse as it traversed the snow-laden streets. Everything felt too sharp and in focus, despite the fact that he wasn’t seeing or hearing any of it. He made it through his door to his home before the tears finally started to fall, blurring his vision as he kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket. He walked to his bedroom with long strides, throwing himself into his pillows and burying his face in the soft cotton, letting them absorb his sorrow.

It was more difficult than he had imagined it would be. He felt their absence fill him, as though emptiness were all he would ever be made of. He had been born from the ashes of nothingness, and every day that he lived brought him closer to returning. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t want to think that he had missed his only chances at happiness because it had been easier to repress everything than face it. He had lost them, and he would never know what could have been with them, because they were forever out of his reach.

He rolled over, staring at his ceiling as his regrets ran from the edges of his lashes, draping his face in the soft salt of his guilt. There were no answers to the “what ifs” and “whys” that ran through his head. There was only the story, told through a hundred looks above the rims of wineglasses, written out through a million small moments that had never meant anything but had always meant everything. What more would he miss if he let his confusion drown out the world? What other losses could be claimed by the almighty hands of his damnable hesitation? How many times had his own life passed him by?

He didn’t have any answers. He knew only that he had regrets. He didn’t want them, but they were all that was left to him, and so he wept for each one. He unpacked them from the places that they were stored in his mind, examining them like expensive jewels beneath the soft light of introspection. There were so many he couldn’t count them, but he wanted to remember them all. He wanted to use them. He was not sure for what, but he wanted to remember how many regrets he had and discover what had caused them. He wanted to be something more than the lonely man, filled with emptiness. He would keep reviewing every mistake he had ever made until he learned how to keep himself from that fate.

No matter how much pain it brought him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, be ready for Chapter 91. It is IMPORTANT.


	91. Midnight Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin does not want to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art at the end of this chapter is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, and it was created by everyone's favorite Gay Enabler, starkind (http://celeste-draws.tumblr.com/). She made the picture based off the rough OUTLINE of this chapter, and it is utter perfection. That is some serious talent.
> 
> This chapter would not even be half of what it is without the brilliant inspiration that starkind gives me, both with her art and her encouragement. If you like this chapter, and more importantly if you like the art, please tell her so. She deserves more credit than I can give her. <3
> 
> I worked extra hard on this one, both to live up to the standards set by the amazing art, and to be worthy of all of you who have taken the time to read this story. I appreciate all of you, whether you comment or not, and I hope that this gives you even a fraction of the joy that you give me by letting me share my stories with you. THANK YOU ALL VERY MUCH.
> 
> EDITED: I fixed the link to the art, it's a much smaller version because tumblr hates us and there have been technical difficulties. I'M SORRY I MESSED IT UP, YOU GUYS.

Snow dusted the tops of the buildings and trees, making the street lights look like candles painted on an empty canvas. The white was thick on the ground, undisturbed by the treading of feet at this late hour, the world slowed as most enjoyed time off in the few days remaining before Christmas. As they walked from the coffee shop, closing for the day and so forcing them from the warmth and comfort of the cafe, they had marveled at the lights strung along the trees and dangling in the windows. Jumin had not spent time doing such frivolous things since he had been a child. It was simple, and uncomplicated, and it wiped the stress of the day before from his mind. The world glittered with the multicolored cheer of the oncoming holiday, and he laughed as Aleks took his elbow and dragged him to the edge of the street corner to see a particularly impressive display. Their breath mingled in the air together, wide smiles on both their faces, and Jumin was elated. He was living, and smiling, without the weight of his past and his burdens dragging him down to taint the joy. He felt as warm and light as the laughter tumbling from Aleks’ lips, and he was glad that he had let the musician lure him out of brooding in his apartment. It was far better than being alone.

They made their way to Aleks’ street, stumbling in the ice and snow that caked the walkway. Despite the chill, he felt uncharacteristically heated, as though an open flame rested in his chest. He also felt relaxed, his worries far away and unable to find him while in his present company. He was not dressed in a stiff suit, as he might have been on a work day. He wore a soft sweater beneath a dark grey jacket, all of that bundled beneath his thicker coat, and for the first time in days unnumbered he had not worn a tie. It was thrilling, and it made him feel less like a businessman and more like a person. A person who could step away from work and find other things to enjoy. Like the company of a man whose smile could have saved the world, if the rest of the world had been paying any attention to the pair as they celebrated nothing and everything for no reason, other than they could.

The ground crunched as they reached the door to the lobby, the loose snow compressing as their feet tracked through it, a sound singular to the powdery ice that heralded winter. Aleks held the door open for him and they rushed in, his lungs tingling as the warmer air of the building filled them. It was not as warm as he had anticipated, though, and he still shivered as he stamped his feet, glancing at the dark ceiling lights and unlit elevator button.

Aleks moved to stand beside him, his hands in his coat pockets as he followed Jumin’s gaze. “Well, it seems the power is out.”

“The stairs, then?” Jumin grinned when Aleks turned, his eyebrow quirking upward. He looked surprised at the suggestion, though Jumin wasn’t sure why. He surprised Aleks often, it seemed. He never understood the cause, but he had to admit that he enjoyed it. Whenever he was faced with the unexpected, the musician would get a small half smile that curved the left side of his lips, a tint of pink spreading beneath his freckles. It made Jumin feel like he had done something good, accomplished some goal he was unaware that he was reaching for, and he relished it every time.

“Alright then, the stairs.”

They marched over to the stairwell, this time Jumin reaching the doorway first. He threw it open, smirking and bowing as he held it sway for Aleks to walk through, who doffed an imaginary hat in response. They climbed skyward in silence, the breath huffing through their chests the only sound disturbing the echoing stillness around them. They reached Aleks’ floor and laughed breathlessly as they tried to navigate the hallway in the pitch black. They somehow made it to the door and unlocked it, moving in as Mishka called out to them from somewhere across the room, though she did not rush out to see them. Aleks shut the door, and they both took off their thicker coats. Jumin chose to remove his suit jacket, as well, despite the chilly air in the unheated apartment. He was still warm, from the climb and the merriment, and he liked the way the cold tingled against his frame without the extra layers. Aleks mirrored him, and stripped to his burgundy sweater, which looked nearly black in the lightless room. He made his way into the kitchen, and Jumin heard him fumble through a few drawers, saying something in Russian under his breath that was undoubtedly a curse of some kind.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, just give me a moment…I know I have them…somewhere…ha!” his exuberance echoed through the room, and a few moments later a small flame flickered to life, the orange glow casting warm shadows across Aleks’ face. He lowered the match onto the tip of a candle, and the wick caught and held. A halo of golden incandescence surrounded him as he walked back over to Jumin, grinning in cheeky triumph. “I only have one, but it is better than nothing, no?”

Jumin chuckled. “Naturally.” Aleks winked, then turned and made his way over to the piano, setting the candle on the shelf above the keys. He followed, moving to lean against the windowsill as Aleks took his seat.

“I normally ask what you would like to hear, but since you do not usually have a request in mind, I think today I will choose.” Aleks looked over his shoulder at him, his eyes dancing like the flame in front of him. Candlelight suited him. “I feel like something festive, in the spirit of all those pretty lights we saw.”

“I concur, and trust your impeccable taste.” He smirked as Aleks cheeks tinted, a timid smile trembling against his lips before he turned around to face the keys.

His fingers brushed the ivory, pulling sound from them with practiced expertise. The room filled with sound, this time familiar, as he had chosen to play a sultry version of _Christmas Time is Here._ Jumin watched him at work, his gaze on his fingers as they moved in graceful curves. The song was mellow, and it reminded Jumin of the feeling that he felt just before he drifted off to sleep at the end of a blissful day. He could count the number of times that had happened to him on a single hand, and he wished that weren’t the case. The holidays brought everyone around him closer, bringing joy to his friends who were celebrating together for the first time. They did not exclude him, but he could not take part in everything. He was on the outside, as he had always been, wishing that he could grasp what it was that made them comfortable enough to love one another. There had been times that he had thought he might understand, but each time he tried to grow close he was left behind. V had never known what Jumin really felt, because Jumin had never known what he had really felt. The pattern had repeated with Rika, and then again with Nicolette. What was it that had driven him to care for them? What was it about those relationships that made him feel broken thinking that they were lost?

He looked out the window, seeing the snow drift from the clouds and fall on the ground. He had been standing there only a few short weeks ago, listening to Aleks play in what he had assumed was secrecy. Before he had known who Aleks was, and just how much joy he could bring to his world. His music had soothed an ache that had no other name but longing, and Jumin had not been able to keep himself from returning to hear more. What must Aleks have thought, seeing him from this viewpoint? Of course, Jumin knew the answer to that question. He had thought to bring him coffee, and invite him in. A simple act of kindness, given to a stranger whom could have shared nothing in common aside from an enjoyment of music. That had been enough justification for Aleks, though. Even his ideas were beautiful, optimistic in ways that were unexpected and wondrous. The world could not be so dark, if artists such as him still brought light wherever they went.

The music stopped abruptly, in the middle of the song, and Jumin turned in surprise to see Aleks frowning at him, a crease in his brows. He could not read the expression in his eyes, as he was blocking the light of the candle.

“Is something wrong?”

Jumin sighed, hovering between truth and denial, uncertain how he wanted to answer such a blunt question. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me? Yes.” Aleks tilted his head, his hair falling away from his eyes and the light curving around the angles of his face to drive away the shadows. He was concerned. Sincerely, effortlessly. He did not ask because Jumin was not attentive enough, or out of some social construct that made it improper not to. He asked because he wanted the answer, because he wanted to help. Aleks had given him so much since they had met, he could not begrudge him this request.

“I said goodbye to an old friend yesterday. I was less prepared to do so than I thought I would be.” He stood up straighter, fidgeting with the edges of his sleeves, wishing that he had cuff links. “I apologize, I did not mean to be rude. I will try to be more present from this point forward.”

 “Please, do not apologize. I am only…I just…” Aleks sighed, glancing at the floor. He hesitated, fighting some war in his own head that Jumin couldn’t understand before he lifted his gaze once more, the shadows covering his face running deeper than they should have despite his smile. “Here, I have something that could take your mind off these things.” He opened a compartment in his piano, just beneath the shelf, and pulled out several sheets of paper. Jumin recognized them from the coffee shop the other day, the same letters scribbled in Russian across the pages. “This is one of the compositions I have been working on for the past month. Would you mind listening to it? Your opinion on it…would matter a great deal to me.”

Jumin felt some of the ache in his chest fall away, replaced with something new and delicate. He didn’t focus on it, afraid that if he took hold of it that it might slip away or shatter, and he did not want it gone. “I would be honored.”

Aleks blushed, his cheeks matching the color of his sweater in the soft light. He turned back to the piano, and he now had Jumin’s undivided attention as he began to bring the song on the page to life.

It was sad. Sad in a way that it broke his heart to hear the progression of chords, sweeping him away in emotions that had no name, only tones and ideas. It was somber and melancholic, his chest constricted with everything that filled it, but it also made him think of hope during the first crescendo. It was not what he expected to find in such a forlorn melody, but it was there, threaded through everything after. It was unlike anything he had ever heard, and it spoke to him in ways no song ever had. The fact that it was written by Aleks made it all the more precious to hear, more vivid and important, and he tried to memorize every tilt to the key, every beat of rest or rhythm.

He stopped playing at an odd juncture, his fingers stuttering on the keys for a moment before falling silent. He glanced back at Jumin again, his mouth twisted in concentration. “It is not complete. I cannot decide how to end the story.”

“The story?” he could barely suppress the curiosity in his voice. Were songs meant to have stories? He had liked to think as much, but he had always thought that was the foolish fancy of a man who could never comprehend true art. He wanted nothing more than to hear the story that went with the music that had just been played.

“I am calling it ‘Midnight Man’.” He smiled affectionately as he spoke, painting the picture that matched the tune. “It is about a man who believes he is a statue. All day, each day, he lets the people of the world pass him by, frozen in place. But then, at night, when he feels no one is watching, he comes to life. He moves in beautiful ways, and it makes the stars and the moon weep to see him.”

“That’s a beautiful concept.” Jumin closed his eyes, able to place the moments in the story to their corresponding measures easily. He could picture the sadness in the man as he stood still in the beginning, and the hopeful beauty as he moved when no one could see. He could relate to such a tale. The idea of being trapped within himself unless no one was watching spoke to him on levels which were difficult to admit. Was that why he had always been pushed away by others? He had stood still, and let them pass him by.

“Thank you. I must admit, I do not know how to end it. I would like to add more hope, but the inspiration does not come.” He smirked, bitter and amused by his own inability to create art. “My man of midnight seems reluctant to open himself up to such things.” Jumin did not like to see the sorrow in his eyes over the incomplete piece, and he wanted more than anything to be able to help, to assist in whatever juvenile way that he could in the creation of what would surely be a masterpiece.

Jumin walked over to the piano, sitting next to Aleks on the bench and running his fingers along the keys. “What if, at the end of the story, he discovered that the reason he thought he was a statue was that he had been afraid of the sun? Perhaps the end could reflect something to help him overcome this.” It was abstract, and the idea felt childish as it left his lips, but he wanted to contribute to the story in some way. When Aleks relayed the meaning, Jumin had felt as though he was carried away with the tale. As infantile as he felt making the suggestion, it was the step that he wanted to come next in the music, and so he was compelled to share.

To Jumin’s astonishment, Aleks did not laugh. Instead he tilted his head to the side, contemplative, and he played a few bars of stuttered, incomprehensible music with unfocused fingers. “Something to overcome a fear of the sun…”

He started to play again, and Jumin closed his eyes and listened. This time the music seemed to pick up something stronger and darker as it went, looming in the deep thrums of the lower chords, and in his mind he pictured a storm building on the horizon. Lighter notes wove into the main theme, and he imagined looking up into the sky as drops of crystal water began to plummet to the ground. He could almost feel the soothing cool against his cheeks, the brisk wind driving away the harsh heat of the everyday summer. Everything swelled, and he pictured himself as the statue, stepping off the pedestal to dance in the rain, free at last from the blinding sun. The sun had always felt too bright to him, but he had believed he was supposed to love it as others had. Perhaps he had loved it once, as well, but once he had been burned it could never be the same. Now that it was gone, perhaps he could gain clarity.

Aleks finished playing, and the music hung in the air, hallow echoes still skirting at the edges of Jumin’s soul. He opened his eyes, and Aleks was looking at him in awe.

“It worked.” He sounded surprised.

“It was perfect.” Jumin felt a rush of heat against his own cheeks as Aleks blushed, and he felt their proximity with the same abruptness as a flash of lightning. Their legs were pressed together where they sat along the bench, their shoulders aligned with no space between them. He couldn’t remember if they had been this close when he had first sat down. Had he intended this? He felt as though they were bound by the contact, like some meaning was held there that whispered of more important things, forbidding them from moving. He did not _want_ to move.

Aleks cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He looked overcome, a brilliance to his eyes that made Jumin’s heart thrum like a plucked string. He wanted to tell him how the music made him feel, how his smile made him feel. He wanted to say so much, but his words meant so little. He was no artist, in any medium, and he could not think of how he could convey the emotions stirring in his chest.

Jumin brushed his hands over the keys again, sighing. “I wish that I had some way to tell you how much your music has moved me. You express everything so beautifully; my words seem bumbling and inadequate.”

Aleks moved his hand over Jumin’s, hovering in the air for the barest breadth of a second, a hesitation like the wings of a hummingbird in a single beat, before he placed one finger on top of his own. He pressed downward, and together they played a solitary note. “Sometimes I feel as though I understand you.” There was a pause, and when Jumin made no move to stir, Aleks shifted another finger over one of Jumin’s while pushing the first into a new spot, so that both were on different keys. He applied gentle pressure, and they played a different chord. “Other times you feel so far away, and I think I cannot possibly know what is in your head.”

_You. Your music is always in my head._ “I’m not so complicated.”

Aleks continued guiding Jumin’s hand to play notes, each new chord illustrating a point to his words, giving them color and depth that the spoken phrases alone could never achieve. “Aren’t you, though? You have friends you rest on your shoulders like burdens, yet you pretend it weighs nothing because you love them. You have troubles that shadow your eyes, yet you never speak of where they have come from. When you listen to me play, everything seems to fall away, and I feel like I am seeing you clearly each time…then when the music stops, you disappear. You hide from the world, but I don’t understand why.”

Jumin was trembling, his fingers shaking below Aleks’, his breath coming in gasps that he tried to keep silent. He felt as though he might cry, or sprout wings from his shoulders and soar across the bitter winter sky. He felt like the world was shifting, ever so slightly to the left, and it granted him clarity and bravery and a million things he couldn’t name but clung to desperately. It was beautiful, it was meaningful, it was music in the beating of his heart that he had no way to share, but wanted nothing more than to do so.

“I…I don’t want to hide from you.”

He flipped his hand, twining his fingers through Aleks’. The pianist turned bright red, and Jumin’s heart started pounding in a way that made his ears ring. He could feel the energy passing between them, snapping in the air like rolling thunder, rippling at every point which they touched. He looked at the musician’s lips, then back at his eyes, the darkest blue, swimming in candlelight. The ocean at midnight, bathed in the bonfire that flared to life at the shore. His breath hitched in his throat. He could hardly comprehend what was happening, but as Aleks had spoken, pieces of armor that he had never known how to remove had fallen away, clattering to the floor and breaking. He had never felt such conflicting ideas, shattering through defenses that had shored themselves around him without his consent, invisible even to himself. He _had_ been hiding, all his life, cowering from the force of what his heart was capable of. He no longer wanted that life, no longer wanted the strangeness of the self-containment that he had subconsciously enforced. He wanted to be seen, to be known for what he was. He knew not what had changed, or why things seemed so clear in the glow of the flickering flame, but the urges in his heart seemed to peal as honest and true as the notes of the song, carried from the keys of the piano. He didn’t want to hide from Aleks. What he wanted…oh, but he _knew_ what he wanted…

They leaned forward into the kiss in perfect synchronicity, tied together through threads of want that paced their hearts at the same rhythm.

Jumin had nothing to compare it to. No kiss had ever stirred this within him. As their lips met, his mind dissolved into frothing bliss, relief and need mingling together in equal measure. It was not that his other kissing experiences had been unpleasant, far from that, however this one brought with it a _longing_ that was hard do describe. He leaned further forward, and Aleks moved their arms from between them, their fingers still clasped together as they settled on the smooth leather of the bench. His breath was sweet, his tongue a brilliant heat that pressed against his own. He had never felt so alive, so full of joy and energy that he couldn’t suppress it. He raised his free hand, sliding it across Aleks’ jaw, fingers pressing into his hairline. Aleks made a small sound in the back of his throat, his hand flying to Jumin’s hip. They pulled each other closer, seeking to meld completely, and Jumin melted as though he were the candle resting on the piano’s polish.

When his lungs were burning and begging for air he finally pulled back, though he kept his hand against Aleks’ cheek. He was alarmed to see a tear roll out of the corner of his eye, skirting over his fingers before he brushed it away. Fear flashed through him, sharp and acidic as he remembered Nicolette’s face the last time he had kissed her. Had he done it again? Was he so woefully bad at reading other humans that he would break them all?

“I’m sorry…was that not…?” he started to pull his hand away, but Aleks threw his own up to stop him.

“No! I mean, that was _everything._ ” He brushed his thumb along Jumin’s knuckles, and he wanted to faint in relief. “I…I just, well, I thought you had a girlfriend.” He turned a deeper shade of red, mumbling the last of his words as he chewed on his lower lip.

“What?” Jumin laughed, incredulous and charmed in one. “Why would you think that?”

Aleks pouted, and Jumin could now recognize the fact that he found it adorable, irrepressibly so. He wanted to kiss the expression until it turned to something else, but he held himself at bay to let Aleks provide his explanation.

“You talk about that girl a lot, the one who you said was important to you.”

Jumin chuckled, then leaned forward and kissed him again, letting their lips linger together until Aleks emitted out a shaking breath. “No, I’m not seeing her. Once I thought we might, but she is madly in love with Saeyoung, and the way I had felt for her never came close to how _he_ feels for her.” He shook his head, but this motion was cut short as Aleks surged against him, kissing him with so much joy he nearly knocked them both off the bench.

“Thank god.” Aleks sighed again, grinning broadly beneath sparking eyes. He tilted his head, giving Jumin a quizzical look. “Wait, did you say ‘Saeyoung’? That’s the name of the one dating the girl who is important? The one that goes to my school?”

“Yes, why?”

Aleks raised an eyebrow. “Would her name be Nicky, by chance?”

“Yes!” Jumin tightened his grip on the fingers still laced with his on the bench. “Nicolette, or Nicky. Have you met?”

Aleks tipped his head back and laughed, and Jumin was mesmerized by the curve of his neck as he did. “Yes. I’ve been escorting her around campus to keep those terrible _suki_ from bothering her.”

“ _You_ _’re_ the knight she’s mentioned?”

“Oh, she mentioned me?” he chuckled, and Jumin brushed the amber hair out of his eyes so that he could see them both clearly. “She is a very kind girl.”

“She is.” Jumin kissed him again, no longer frustrated with his lack of words, no longer at a loss as to what he should do. _This_ was how he could express his gratitude, his affection, his everything. When he pulled back he found himself trembling again, but he didn’t care. He reveled in it. “Thank you. For helping protect her. The world has done awful things to her.”

Aleks looked full of everything wonderful about the universe, his eyes too bright, and he lifted his chin and smiled. “It was the honorable thing to do.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but his phone chimed in his pocket, stopping him short. He closed his lips, brushed them against Aleks’ once more, then pulled the interruption free so he could silence it. It was Zen, haranguing him so that he was not late to their appointed chatroom meeting, which had slipped Jumin’s mind when he had left to meet with Aleks. He rolled his eyes, knowing that the narcissist would be insufferable about the whole affair. How he had gotten talked into actually attending one of his plays was beyond him. He looked back at Aleks, glowing with joy, and Jumin smirked, because he knew exactly how he could irritate Zen and keep his ego from swallowing them all.

“I’m afraid I will have to end our evening early. I have an appointment to keep.” He caressed Aleks’ cheek with a gentle finger before he stood, his legs somewhat unsteady as he tried to navigate to the door. He felt as though he had been wound up tightly for a thousand years, and today the latch had been snapped and sent him spinning free. Everything tingled; everything was alight. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Aleks trailed behind him as he grabbed his outerwear, throwing it on in the dim light. He turned to face him before he left, leaning in close until his forehead pressed against his musician’s.

“You’ll come back, won’t you?” the words were fragile and whispered, and their hands sought each other out, lacing together as they shook. “I will not wake tomorrow only to find you have been nothing more than a sweet dream?”

Jumin pulled him against him, kissing him with everything he had to give. Nothing held back, nothing hidden. He would never hide from Aleks again. “Tomorrow night I would like to take you out properly. My friend is performing in a play, and I would be honored if you would consider accompanying me.”

Aleks smiled, and he was still close enough that Jumin felt it against his face. “Of course, my dear man of midnight.”

“What?” Jumin tilted his head, moving back a fraction of an inch to look on in confusion.

Aleks released his hands so that he could place both of his on either side of Jumin’s face, smirking, and the expression did things to Jumin that no woman had _ever_ achieved. “I started writing that after I saw you outside my window, the first day you stopped by. _You_ are the man that thought he was a statue.” Aleks kissed him, slow and smoldering, bright and warm. It was _everything._ “I’m so glad you decided to move for me.”

As Jumin left, he could not help but concur. He was glad that he had moved, as well. He was glad that he had found someone that moved him. He understood so much now, so many things becoming clear, so that he marveled that he had ever been confused at all.

Love, in the end, was not just for the artists.

 


	92. The Chatroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a chatlog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is just a chatlog. I thought it worked well enough to stand on its own, and honestly I couldn't decide who's POV to do it from. So have a third, smol chapter today, to continue riding those gay, gay feelings. XD

**_ZEN has entered the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Yo!!!**

**ZEN: Eh?**

**ZEN: No one** **’s here yet T_T**

**_Jaehee has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jaehee: Don** **’t be discouraged, I’m sure they’ll be here any minute.**

**ZEN: Thanks, babe!!**

**Jaehee: Are we doing that thing now where we type to each other even though we** **’re in the same room?**

**ZEN: If Saeyoung can get away with it, then so can we.**

**Jaehee: ^_^**

**_Nicolette has entered the chatroom._ **

**_707 has entered the chatroom._ **

**Nicolette: Sorry we** **’re late!**

**707: Got distracted!**

**ZEN: Gross.**

**Nicolette: Not that**

**707: definitely that**

**Nicolette: >.>**

**_Yoosung has entered the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: Hi!!!!**

**Nicolette: Yoosung!!!**

**707: Ducky!!!**

**Nicolette: how are you?**

**Yoosung: Good. Playing LOLOL with ~Anna <3**

**Nicolette: lol I guess that** **’s what Christmas break is good for.**

 **Yoosung: You still have a final though, don** **’t you?**

**Nicolette: just one, on Monday.**

**ZEN: After the play, right?**

**Nicolette: Yes, of course ^^**

**_Jumin has entered the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: Good evening, everyone.**

**Nicolette: Hello~**

**707: ~Jumin the red nosed chairman!~**

**ZEN: lol wut**

**ZEN: Anyways, since we** **’re all here…**

**707: straight to business -_-**

**ZEN: Okay, so the show starts at 7, does anybody need a ride?**

**707: yes because I will drive you**

**ZEN: Good plan**

**Nicolette: omg Zen, why did you ask if you didn** **’t already have a plan?**

**ZEN: What?**

**ZEN: It still would have been relevant information**

**Nicolette: you are such a spaz**

**ZEN: A gorgeous spaz~**

**Nicolette: naturally ~**

**707: hey**

**Nicolette: you** **’re prettier <3**

**707: *^_^***

**Yoosung: Anna and I would appreciate a ride**

**707: gotcha, smol duckling couple added to list**

**Yoosung: -_-**

**ZEN: Do you have your tickets?**

**Yoosung: Yep!!!**

**707: Yo, Jumin, you gonna be around too? Wanna ride with us?**

**Jumin: No. That will not be necessary.**

**Jumin: Also, I will need an additional ticket.**

**ZEN: Last minute?!?!??**

**ZEN: What for?**

**Jumin: I have a date :3**

**ZEN: WAT**

**Yoosung: WAT**

**707: omg**

**Jaehee: Really?**

**Jumin: Yes. ^^**

**ZEN: You? With a date?**

**ZEN: How did you even manage that?**

**ZEN: Wait.**

**ZEN: You have to tell me who she is.**

**ZEN: Give me her contact information.**

**ZEN: I need to go talk some sense into her.**

**Nicolette: Zen!!!**

**ZEN: No , seriously.**

**ZEN: who is it?**

**ZEN: If I have to beg for another ticket, then you have to spill.**

**Jumin: :3 Nicolette knows :3**

**Nicolette: I do???**

**Jumin: From school.**

**Yoosung: omg Nicky tell us**

**Nicolette: Oh really? Hmmmmm. What instrument do they play?**

**Jumin: Piano. Graduate student. :3**

**Nicolette: Hmmmm.**

**707: SUCH SUSPENSE.**

**Yoosung: STOP MESSING AROUND AND TELL US**

**Nicolette: the only person I know that fits that description is my Knight lol**

**Jumin: Yep :3**

**Nicolette: Wait, really? Aleks?!**

**Jumin: Yes. I didn** **’t realize until earlier this evening that you two knew each other, though.**

**ZEN: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**ZEN: oh**

**ZEN: my**

**ZEN: god**

**707: lol this should be fedora-worthy**

**ZEN: YOU** **’RE GAY? AFTER ALL THIS TIME?**

 **Jumin: No. Well, yes. I mean, I don** **’t think anything else has changed.**

 **ZEN: But you** **’re going on a date. With a guy.**

 **Nicolette: Zen, I** **’m pretty sure the term you’re looking for is bisexual.**

**ZEN: Both???**

**707: Jumin is a man of the people lololololol**

**Nicolette: Don** **’t be crass**

**707: >.< sorry, love**

**Nicolette: Jumin, I** **’m so excited for you!! Aleks is amazing.**

**Nicolette: haha, he did tell me when we first met he was into tall, handsome, and broody.**

**Nicolette: guess he wasn** **’t kidding.**

 **ZEN: THAT** **’S HOW YOU DESCRIBE JUMIN?**

**ZEN: WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING**

**707: How long have you guys been seeing each other?**

**707: Sneaky, keeping it from all of us lol**

**Jumin: I met him after the funeral.**

**Jumin: But this will be our first date :3**

**Yoosung: wow, a slow burn XD**

**ZEN: HE IS NOT A ROMANCE NOVEL**

**707: Jumin, so many emojis tonight**

**707: very kawaii**

**Jumin: Zen, you seem to be uncomfortable**

**ZEN: YES**

**ZEN: I mean no**

**ZEN: I mean this is just so sudden**

**Yoosung: That** **’s not very supportive**

 **707: he** **’s jealous lololol**

**707: he wanted Jumin all to himself**

**Jaehee: please stop that**

**707: Oh, Hi Jaehee <3**

**Yoosung: lolololol**

**Jumin: Zen, if you wanted a date with me you could have said something.**

**Jumin: I prefer men to be more direct.**

**Jaehee: >.<**

**Yoosung: LOL Zen would be submissive**

**ZEN: I WOULD NOT**

**ZEN: I** **’M NOT JEALOUS**

 **ZEN: I DON** **’T WANT TO DATE MEN**

 **ZEN: AND EVEN IF I DID, I WOULDN** **’T DATE HIM**

**_Mom has entered the chatroom._ **

**707: Yoosung, your papas are fighting again**

**Nicolette: torn apart by the white knight, swooping in to steal the heart of the brooding hero!**

**707: Yoosung is left all alone**

**Nicolette: No fathers to love him**

**707: No comfort of his nice warm egg**

**Nicolette: his tears trail across his face**

**707:** **“why papa?! Why would you leave us?”**

**Nicolette: But Papa Han cannot hear him**

**707: Because the knight has whisked him away**

**Nicolette: and they lived happily ever after**

**707: and the duck ran away with the spoon**

**Yoosung: I** **’M NOT A DUCK**

**Yoosung: wait**

**Yoosung: Why do I have a spoon?**

**Mom: you know what? Nevermind.**

**_Mom has left the chatroom._ **

**Nicolette: lololololol**

**707: lolololol**

**ZEN: Wait, she has her ticket, right?**

**707: probs**

**ZEN: -_-**

**Jaehee: Jumin, I** **’m surprised you’re so open about this**

**ZEN: Yeah!**

**Jumin: I have no wish to hide it.**

**ZEN: You could explain.**

**Jumin: Does it require explanation? I met someone that I am fond of. I would like to date him.**

**ZEN: that** **’s not what I meant!!**

 **Nicolette: Zen, I swear to god, stop acting like it** **’s a bad thing**

**Nicolette: When you started dating Jaehee, Jumin never said anything bad about it**

**Nicolette: He even gave her vacation time because YOU requested it**

**Nicolette: Even if he was surprised by it, he never acted like it**

**Yoosung: typing so fast** **…**

**Nicolette: Because he was being supportive to you guys**

**Nicolette: Now Jumin has found something that makes him happy**

**Nicolette: And he was happy enough about it to share it with us**

**Nicolette: And YOU are going to make him uncomfortable**

**Nicolette: You haven** **’t even said congrats or that you were happy for him**

**Nicolette: AND ANOTHER THING**

**707: She is very angrily typing**

**707: I** **’m scared**

**Yoosung: omg me too**

**Nicolette: YOU don** **’t get to decide if he wants to consider himself gay or bi or whatever he is comfortable with**

 **Nicolette: and you DON** **’T get to judge him with things like “after all this time” or anything**

 **Nicolette: He doesn** **’t become “gay” just because he’s dating a guy if he wants to consider himself “bi” or “queer” or whatever he is comfortable with**

 **Nicolette: and that doesn** **’t invalidate any past relationships he had with women**

**Nicolette: IN SUMMATION**

**Nicolette: Jumin, I love you and I** **’m so happy for you and I support you**

**707: WOW**

**Yoosung: WOW 2**

**Jaehee: -_-;;**

**ZEN: *sigh***

**ZEN: I probably deserved at least half of that**

**Nicolette: ONLY HALF?**

**Nicolette: brb**

**707: NICKY NO**

**Yoosung:** **…?**

**707: SHE IS TRYING TO BUY LIKE HUNDREDS OF FEDORAS**

**Nicolette: HE NEEDS ONE FOR EVERY DAY OF THE YEAR**

**Yoosung: OMG lolololol**

**Jumin: Make them all orange.**

**Jumin: Make them have shag carpet.**

**ZEN: SOMEONE SAVE ME**

**Jaehee: Please do not make them orange**

**Jaehee: Burgundy would be ideal**

**ZEN: BABE**

**ZEN: WAIT, NO**

**ZEN: I APOLOGIZE**

**ZEN: JUMIN I AM VERY HAPPY FOR YOU**

**ZEN: I WILL BE SUPPORTIVE**

**Nicolette: Jaehee, make him stand in the corner**

**Jaehee: He is already moping beneath his pillow**

**Nicolette: fair enough**

**707: lol is the meeting adjourned now?**

**707: I want to go to beddddddd**

**Yoosung: oh really, huh?**

**Yoosung: the first time the great 707 ever goes to bed early**

**707: lol, won** **’t be sleeping though ;)**

**ZEN: GODDAMMIT, I COME BACK FOR TWO SECONDS AND THIS IS WHAT I GET**

**707: lol hi Zen**

**707: this is what you get for harping about chastity all the time**

**Nicolette: lol stop teasing him, I think he** **’s been punished enough**

**Jumin: I disagree.**

**Yoosung: lololol 50 Shades of Jumin Han**

**Jumin: I do not understand that joke.**

**Nicolette: Don** **’t listen to them, Jumin.**

**Nicolette: So Aleks is coming tomorrow?**

**Jumin: Assuming there is a ticket left for him, yes. :3**

**ZEN: Yes, I** **’ll get your ticket. I have to meet this guy, since you’re both so in love with him.**

 **Jaehee: Alright, I** **’m leaving before I must witness my boyfriend dig himself into a deeper hole.**

 **Jaehee: Jumin, I** **’m very happy for you.**

**Jumin: Thank you, Jaehee. :3**

**_Jaehee has left the chatroom._ **

**707: We** **’re going too**

**Nicolette: Goodnight everybody. See you all tomorrow!!!!**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

**_Nicolette has left the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: Goodnight!**

**_Yoosung has left the chatroom._ **

**Jumin: Does it really bother you?**

**ZEN: Of course not, man.**

**ZEN: Only that I didn** **’t know. I feel like I should have.**

 **Jumin: *I* didn** **’t know, it would have been strange if you did.**

**ZEN: True.**

**ZEN: Do you think V knew?**

**Jumin: Probably. He always seemed to know everything before the rest of us.**

**ZEN: one more thing he never told lol**

**Jumin: Yes. He had reasons. Poor ones, but he had them.**

**ZEN: Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.**

**Jumin: It** **’s okay, I baited you into it.**

**ZEN: I know >.>**

**ZEN: Hey, does he make you happy?**

**Jumin: Very much. Very, very much.**

**ZEN: Then I am thrilled to get an extra ticket.**

**ZEN: And I** **’m really, really happy for you, you jerk.**

**Jumin: Thanks, narcissist.**

**Jumin: I** **’m glad your ego left you room to feel that way.**

**Jumin: See you tomorrow.**

**ZEN: G** **’night.**

**_Jumin has left the chatroom._ **

**_ZEN has left the chatroom._ **


	93. He was Made for Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have competing perspectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have been slightly inspired by the Christmas DLC. Which is still messing with my head. 
> 
> Anyways, please survive this angst. I had a horrendous day and I believe my feelings sort of came out somewhere in these here words. XD Next chapter is primarily solid fluff, so hang in there.

Victims weren’t supposed to behave this way.

That was what the nurse had said. He wasn’t what they wanted him to be. He cried when no one was looking, and he screamed whenever he felt their eyes on him, whenever he heard their footsteps in the hall. Click-clacking shoes against the cold linoleum, little points of sound like pinpricks in his arm. One, two, three, then he slept again. Awake again, then one by one they came, soldiers in frumpy smocks with gazes of iron and spite. They laughed at him, called him names. _Brat. Ungrateful. Psychopath. Maniac. Selfish little shit._ They left bruises all over him whenever they had to touch him. Finger paintings on his skin with too much blue and purple. It was just like old times. Just like when he was a kid. Trapped in a small room, rough hands providing the only warmth that he ever felt. He had been born this way, and he would die this way. A circle, like the halo of light around the moon as it peeked between the silver studded clouds.

He could hear people singing in the streets. It was beautiful. The words were jumbled through the distance, but the notes hung clear in the frozen air, magnified by the ice and the flirtatious dance of the moon. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard music.

Yes he could.

Hair pinned up, fire coiled around pearl-studded bands that clipped it back from her face. Fitted black dress, draped off the edge of her shoulders so that her arms had full range of motion. She had held a violin aloft like it was made of magic, and that was what she had made in turn. Music had never sounded like that, but she made it _more_. She made it real, whole, something heavier than the abstract. She painted pictures with intangible waves that vibrated through the air and into his brain. He had watched them too many times. He had watched her play, had watched her sing, had watched her eyes grow wide as he dragged her closer to the window. He had watched her smile, watched her look at him with patience, and watched her blood spread across the floor like spilled wine. He had watched her walk through the door of his prison, and he had seen the pain as he sent her back out again.

What had he done?

_“You…were never supposed to have happened.” The blue in her eyes was dull, deadened by the drink in her hands. Her pupils were always too big when she got like this, the smell of her breath filling the room, noxious and overpowering. “Just one. I only needed one. Fucking Choi. Fucking bastard.”_

_He hunched his shoulders, trying to sink further into the corner. The bindings around his wrists hurt. He was bleeding again, he could feel it trickling around the frayed edges of the rope. He tried to shift his arms so that the blood would soak into his shirt instead of dripping on the carpet. He never wanted to get it on the carpet again._

_She lifted the bottle to her lips, the pale green glass mashing against her lipstick and smearing it out of place._ _“I guess I only have one now. Tch. The wrong one.”_

_Saeyoung was gone. She brought it up often. Every day. Whenever she could. She smiled whenever he flinched at the harsh reality he had been left in. She had laughed when he had cried, and eventually he had stopped crying. Now all he did was shiver, like a blind mouse left in the cold._

_He was the wrong one. The wrong twin. The extra. The one that didn_ _’t need to exist because Saeyoung was smarter and stronger and smiled more. Saeyoung could look at the sky and count all the stars, and Saeran had only ever been able to try. He would always look back at the ground, wondering how hard he would have to hit it to stop breathing forever. Maybe if he knew how to look at the sky the way Saeyoung had, he wouldn’t be so lost. Maybe Saeyoung never would have left him. Alone. All alone, left to simmer in his wrongness._

Alone. He had made himself alone again. She had come to him with serenity, an olive branch in her graceful fingers, the same ones that could make magic with wound metal strings. He had yelled. He had hated. He had railed against her because she loved his brother, and it was only a matter of time before she realized that he was the lesser twin. He didn’t want what Saeyoung had, but he wanted to be loved. He wanted to have more quiet conversations, where the sound of her voice dulled the screaming in the back of his head. He wanted to see what laughter felt like. Not the laughter he had known, but the laughter that she made. Silver, spilling from her throat and spinning around the room.

No. That was not his fate. He was made for death, and death was made for him. Shadows creeping from the coffin, shaped like the child that had screamed in the darkness of the locked closet, banging on the door until his fist turned bloody and his tears ripped rivers on his raw cheeks. His gravestone was etched from his very first breath, drawn minutes after his brother’s. The wrong twin. Never the right one.

He wanted to die. The pain of his past had carved actual scars on his heart, and every time it beat it hurt him more. He wanted to curl up into a ball, to cry until he slithered as saltwater onto the floor, to stop feeling and thinking and being. Why wouldn’t it stop? Why did it feel like there was a hole in his middle, sucking all the light from the world and hiding it from view? He wanted to die, and he imagined a thousand different ways to do it, savoring each vivid scene like a sweet dream. The click of the gun against his palm, red mist spraying through the air as his brains hit the other side of the wall. The drift in his bloodstream as a bottle of pills dissolved in his stomach, bubbling until he was eroded away. Stars bursting behind his eyes as his lungs filled with emptiness and nothing, the sheet tied around his neck soft but unyielding. The smell of earth and snow as he smashed into the ground, the arms of the world catching him with unrelenting mercy.

The bullet was his favorite. Efficient. Quick. A mechanical click, the gun having no kickback because he would be weightless before that point. His blood would be like paint, across the wall, across the world. Each drop would be poetry, a story, a chapter of all that he was and all that he could have been. He was made for death, and death was made for him. His viscera would make that clear, would be the writing on the wall that covered up the words that he hated. If he was dead he could not be the wrong twin. If he was dead he could not be unwanted. He could not be unloved. Maybe in death he could find out who he was. Maybe death was all he could ever be.

He wanted to die before he became his mother. He wanted to die before all that was left was the urge to hurt. He wanted to die before she could return with the stars in her eyes and all that music in her heart. He was afraid of her, terrified of what she could make him become. He had killed a man, and he would have killed her too. Out the window, in a darkened cell, at the end of a gun he never should have pointed at anyone but himself. She laughed liquid silver and held the entire night sky between her breaths and her blinks. She was infinity and he was less than. Minus. The wrong one. He could not ask for friendship when the bell was always tolling his name, calling him back for what he was made for.

The only friends he had ever had punished him for the sin of living, and he knew no other way. He only knew how to be the mongrel, and her eyes spoke of more. Saeyoung’s eyes spoke of better. It was better to die than to fail that wish. Better to die and forget that he had ever tried to exist. They would not miss him. They would be free. They would be the comets in the quiet sky, trails of sparkling dust rippling in their wake. The broken brother would return to the dirt. He would fall to the ground and melt into a pool of his own blood, like spilled wine on the cracked concrete. He had wanted them gone, he had pushed them away, he had hated seeing their faces and their hopes and all the things he could never have. He wanted this solitude. He wanted his festering loneliness that sucked him dry like the sands sapped the rain from the sun’s greedy reach. He had engineered this, so _why did it hurt so much that she hadn_ _’t stayed?_ Why did he ache to know the hallway was empty and full of night?

He stared at the sky and the sky stared back. He stared non-stop, because the minute that he turned his gaze away the pain grew so unbearable that tears would fall like acid rain. He hated the pain, he hated the exhaustion, he hated what he had become and what it made him want to do. He wanted the bullet, the pills, the sheet around his neck or the ground rushing up to meet him. He wanted to stop being the lesser twin. He wanted to stop being the unwanted thing. He wanted to stop. Everything. All of it. He just wanted everything to end.

He cried, because no one was watching. He counted the screams that he had heard or made, like stars that peppered the back of his mind. He wanted to fulfill his purpose. He wanted to meet his destiny and sail into the empty abyss that he had always deserved.

He was made for death, and death was made for him.

***

He stared at the sky and the sky stared back. The clouds were thin and wispy, dropping snow in erratic patterns before flitting out of view. He could see the stars here and there, sometimes a wink from the moon, a rainbow halo of frozen air clinging to its rim like the rings of Saturn. He reached his hand up, splaying his fingers as though he could touch the space outside of the atmosphere. Cold and quiet, beyond the realm of human frailties. It was all so far away.

His back had gone numb from laying on the snow-dusted metal, but he didn’t move. He had climbed onto the hood of his car and laid down, and he didn’t know how long it had been since he stirred. He wanted to see the sky, to sort his thoughts under the heavy-lidded midnight black. He liked the stillness all around him, too late for anyone else to be awake and too early for the birds to arise. He was alone, and it made him lonely.  It was a familiar feeling, wrapping around him like a sweater to go along with the holidays.

Except nothing about this Christmas was the same as the others. He wasn’t alone. He had a beautiful space princess slumbering in the bed that they had shared until he had crept from its warmth. Knowing that she was waiting for him drove the worst of the darkness away. His mother had ruined Christmas fourteen times before he had left, and she must have kept up the tradition after he had gone. His own parade of holidays had never improved, even after escaping the shit hole he’d grown up in. Fourteen years of hell and violence, three of nothing but sweat and mud and studies, one of blurred memories of homework and girls whose names and faces had no meaning, two of stupid hats that never died, and one where he had learned his lesson and kept to himself to avoid everything it brought. This year, however, the twenty-second Christmas that he had ever been alive for, he had somehow found himself donning festive colors and decorating a tree. Sipping cocoa and listening to Nicky hum holiday songs as she darted around, placing their mismatched ornaments on the shabby branches.

He had been celebrating because for the first year he had something worthy of celebration, but he felt guilty about it. His brother was strapped to a hospital bed, and while he drank up every spare minute that he could with his beloved, Saeran was trapped in the care of staff that resented the illness they were supposed to be treating. He knew that it had to be this way. He knew that he was going to spend every minute with his brother after Monday night, making up for the years of lost time that his trust in V had earned them. He knew that dreaming of decorating a tree Nicky _and_ Saeran would have to be saved for another year. He still didn’t feel good about it.

The rhythmic crunching of snow informed him that he was no longer alone, and he lifted his head to see who was awake to disturb him. Nicky marched through the lot towards the car, dressed in nothing more than a pair of boots and jacket thrown over her pajamas. She was already shivering as she made her way over to him, her teeth chattering as she rubbed her hands along her arms.

“You’re going to freeze to death!” he slid from the top of the car, dusting himself off with a few claps of his hands as he rushed over to her. He unbuttoned the front of his coat, and when he reached her he wrapped her up in it, pulling her into his own warmth.

She continued to tremble from the cold even as she glared up at him. “ _You_ _’re_ going to freeze.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. “You disappeared.”

He rubbed his hand along her spine. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I had a…I woke up.” The hitch in her voice would have been a tipoff even without the fumbled words.

“Bad dream?”

She sighed, her breath making a cloud of heated air that drifted above their heads. “Yes.”

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“No.” She shifted her head so that she was looking up at him, her eyes reflecting hints of moonlight. “Maybe.”

He smiled, tilting down just enough to kiss her, lips of ice and love. “Spill, I’m all ears.”

“It was…” she wrinkled her nose, frowning. “In my dream, we had forgotten something. All of us. I couldn’t remember what it was, but something bad was going to happen because we forgot. Then…then I was alone somewhere, and I couldn’t find anyone. I tried to scream, but nobody could hear me.” She shivered against him, from more than the cold sinking into their bones. “Then I woke up, and you were gone.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m here. You’re not alone.” He kissed her and pulled her tighter, trying to impart his apology in a more sincere way than the words could convey. He forgot sometimes that he wasn’t the only one with ghosts rattling their chains in his head. She had monsters living under her bed that were just as scary, things that could make nightmares just as vivid as the ones that kept him from claiming dreams for himself. She was so full of light that it was hard to remember that every light still cast many shadows.

Her teeth chattered, ruining their kiss, and she laughed and buried her face below the lining of his coat. “Why are you out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nervous about tomorrow?”

He chuckled. “I’m sure Zen’s play will be fine.”

She struggled in the confines of his arm for a moment before she managed to get a hand free to snake upwards and tug at his earlobe. “S-saeyoung.” She used his name like a command, which made him laugh because her lips were shaking enough that she stuttered, lessening the stern effect she had been going for. 

“Yes, I’m nervous. And sad.” He inhaled slowly, meeting her gaze and trying to memorize the way it looked when it hovered just below his like this. “I don’t want to be apart from you.”

“I know. Me too.” She smiled, and he forgot that it was even cold outside. “But it’s only for a little while.”

“I hope so.”

She took a step back, pulling him with her so that they stumbled a bit, heading towards the building with an ungainly momentum. “Come on, come back to bed with me.”

He grinned, kissing her even as they waddled their way to the door. “I can never say no to that request.”

She sighed, and he stole her breath for his lungs, tasting her in the back of his throat and letting her heat fill him. He felt like she gave him all the hope he never knew how to feel on his own. She renewed his will to live, to fight, to build something better out of the nothing that Saeran and himself had been given. Since he had been born, he had always thought the best that he could do was to get by, to scrape along with the dregs the world offered and be glad he wasn’t dead. Nicky changed that, and everything else about his world. With her at his side, he knew that he could save his other half. He knew that everything would be okay. He was made for life, and this life was made for him. That was the gift that Nicky gave him.


	94. What it Felt Like to Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin has a date.

He was _nervous._ Not in the way that he might normally be, however. This was not the tension of the unsure, or the tension of confusion. Jumin had not been more assured of something since…ever. He paused as he finished affixing his tie in place, smiling quietly even though he was alone. His whole life he had been wandering in his own head, trying to find his way through the maze of things that clamored for his attention. Feelings that he had never wanted to acknowledge, sentiments that he had never taken the time to give name or assign purpose. They had dwelled in the furthest reaches of his consciousness, growing and thriving even though his back had been turned. Now he had broken through the barriers to find not the strange seedlings that had been left in the dark, but a lush forest, in full bloom in the silver moonlight. He was not nervous because he doubted, he was nervous because he was _excited,_ the raw power of anticipation fluttering in his stomach like gossamer wings with riotous colors that put the lights strung along the streets to shame.

What a novel feeling.

He grabbed his jacket off the hanger, throwing it over his shoulders and straightening it so that it rested as it should. He looked at his reflection in front of him, staring at the tie and wondering if he had made the right selection. It was a deep green, the color of pine trees dotting the hillside, standing out starkly against the snow white of his shirt and wedged between the midnight of his suit. Would blue have been better? It would match his eyes. Not _his_ eyes, but Aleks’ eyes. The green was an attempt to be ‘festive’, as Saeyoung would have put it, but perhaps it was inappropriate for a first date. Second date? Now that he knew this was what he wanted, he felt as though he had been courting Aleks for weeks. Perhaps that was closer to the truth than he had ever known. Perhaps part of him had known that he had wanted him from the moment he saw him through that window, it had just taken his thoughts far too long to catch up. He glanced at the clock, sighing as he realized there was no time to reconsider wardrobe choices at this point.

He finished donning the rest of his clothes, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulders before making his way to the door. The hallway outside his penthouse was quiet, the security guard at the end pretending that he didn’t see Jumin as he locked his home behind him. He smiled and waved, giving the hulking man pause. He blinked in confusion for a moment before returning the greeting, but Jumin was already halfway to the elevator.

It was nearly Christmas. It was nearly a holiday that professed to be about love and family, and for the first time in uncountable years he had places to be on the days deemed special during this time of year. He had people to celebrate with, and he had reasons to celebrate. Tonight he was meeting with his true family, those that he held dearest, and he was introducing them to a man that had unlocked things in him that were so much greater than he could have imagined. He had not been predisposed to spend his time imagining _anything_ before, in fact. Now, though, his mind was whirling with possibilities that would have been far beyond his reach previously. Aleks had delivered understanding and comprehension with a brush of his lips and a deep blush, and Jumin found himself wanting to return the favor, in whatever capacity he had to do so.

He exited his building, looking up at the sky. The sun had gone down early in the evening, its curtain call sooner during the wintry season. There were no clouds to block the night, and a hundred million points of light smiled down at him. They were brighter in the frigid air, as though lower temperatures could amplify their multitudes and shorten the distance between his gaze and the galaxies. He shivered, hunching his shoulders so that the collar of his jacket covered more of his neck as he strolled forward, making his way across the snow-covered streets towards his date’s apartment. It was not far, either from his place to Aleks’ or from there to the theater, and so he had not arranged for a car. He wanted to be able to walk together, looking at the Christmas lights again, cherishing the season with someone special.

He arrived at his destination in short order, a grin already spreading across his face as the elevator took him up to the right floor. He strolled down the hallway with long strides, reaching the door as quickly as he was able without fully breaking composure and running. He knocked and waited, counting three seconds before it was flung open and Aleks was standing before him, dressed in a crisp navy jacket and alluring black sweater. His smile was shy, his eyes shining like the shores of far off legends, full of sparkling meaning that whispered of fate and eternity. They were in each other’s arms before he had finished drawing his next breath, lips interlocking as though that was all they had ever been made for. He felt as though they ascended off the ground, floating through the cloudless night sky amongst the endless stars. The way Aleks sighed as he held him made his head spin, and Jumin was content to let it continue even as the other man pulled back to pin his gaze with his own.

“You came back.” Aleks’ voice wavered, full of euphoric surprise that could have cracked the ice on any man’s heart, and it melted Jumin’s in an instant.

He cupped his musician’s cheek, brushing his hair to the side. “You were in doubt?”

“Mm.” He leaned into his palm, his smile growing wide and sweet. “Jumin, my dearest. I will never stop thinking you are too good to be true.”

“Allow me to assuage as much of those misgivings as I am able, then.” He pressed forward, wrapping his arms around Aleks’ hips as he parted his lips with his tongue. They fell backwards until Aleks bumped into the door frame behind him, and Jumin used the newfound leverage to press them together. Aleks slid his arms up until his fingers brushed the back of Jumin’s hair, caressing it in a way that made his knees feel as though they had gone missing. He could drown in this moment, in this man, and never have an ounce of regret.

Air did not feel as essential as the kiss, but his lungs protested, and so after a few moments he drew his lips away. Aleks grinned, Jumin grinned, their chests rising and falling to the same deep rhythm as their breathing returned to normal.

Aleks cleared his throat. “Well.”

“Too much?” he raised his eyebrow, smirking as he took in the heady color of his musician’s cheeks.

“ _Never._ _”_ He spared another quick kiss, keeping it short, sweet, and so _familiar_ that Jumin felt it rush through him like static and whimsy. “We should go, or we’ll be late, yes?”

“True.” He stepped away, releasing him so that Aleks could close and lock his door. “Normally I would show up to such an event late, by design, if only to irritate my friend, but it’s close enough to Christmas that I’m feeling charitable.”

Aleks arched an eyebrow skyward. “Apparently.” It was Jumin’s turn to blush this time, disarmed and charmed in equal measure by the man he had the privilege of taking out this evening. He had never been more excited to go to the theater.

They made their way down and out of the building in giddy silence, glancing at each other and grinning as though they were little boys who had just gotten away with stealing pie. When he looked at Aleks he felt as though he had gained something of his own youth back. Something that had been lost somewhere as he had trailed after V, a step behind and a world apart. Somewhere between the missed connections and dozens of letters, between the art and the girls and the failures of his own heart, a piece of himself had been hidden away and buried. Jumin hadn’t even realized that it had been gone, yet Aleks had found it, unearthed it, and brought it into the brilliant light of his smile. _This_ was what it felt like to fall.

They meandered down the street, heading in the direction of the theater. Despite their discussion of timing earlier, neither of them were in any particular rush. They made a show of looking at the lights, pausing to point out the lovelier displays that they hadn’t seen on their route the previous evening. In truth, they looked at each other far more than any of the festive decorations. Stopping was merely an excuse to stand closer, to lean into Aleks as he pointed over his head, for Aleks to press his arm into his shoulder as he turned him towards the best vantage point. It was a dance, of sorts. Neither of them led, neither of them rushed, both knowing the steps without ever having to rehearse. 

When they were a block or so from the theater, Jumin grew tired of the pageantry, wanting to be close to his musician and remain that way. He slid his arm around Aleks’, locking their elbows in place and pulling him into his side. Aleks stiffened for a moment, uncharacteristically uneasy, but his blush was the budding pink petals of roses so delicate that winter would not dare to wilt them. He smiled, and Jumin forgot that there had been any hesitation at all.

When they arrived at the theater Jumin guided them towards the VIP entrance that Zen had described. Jumin’s ticket would be all that they would need to enter, as Zen had given instructions to the security team ahead of time. The guard by the door was a hulking man with a ten-thousand-watt smile, and he inclined his head politely as they approached. Jumin flashed the ticket, the guard opened the door, and they strolled inside. Throughout the encounter, he did not miss the small flinch when Aleks saw him, the tremor that would not have been noticeable were he not pressed against his side.

They found themselves in a small room with a handful of finely dressed patrons milling about, some of them obviously actors greeting family members that had been given the privilege of the VIP treatment. Jumin spotted the gaggle of RFA members towards the back of the room just as they spotted them, and a flurry of glasses were held in the air as they all called out his name, smiles on every face. They did not stare, turning back to their conversations as they waited for the couple to make their way to the back of the room in their own time. It was nice to see them all together, dressed semi-formal attire, almost like they would have been for an RFA party. Even Vanderwood had donned a lacy gown that flattered her figure far more than her usual suits did. Jumin was more thrilled at the fact that they were all gathered in one place, however, and he started to walk towards them.

Aleks went completely rigid against him, his fingers digging into the side of his arm. “Are they all…friends of yours?”

“Yes. Dear ones.” He frowned, looking at the tension in Aleks jawline as he tried to hold a smile, his eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

“I just…I didn’t expect so many people.” He swallowed, his throat bobbing, his hair falling in front of his face as though to hide him in plain sight.

Jumin shifted his arm so that he could grab Aleks’ hand, pulling his attention. “I apologize. I don’t understand, but we can leave if you’re uncomfortable.”

Aleks looked down at their hands, fingers laced together, then back up to meet Jumin’s gaze. “They…they know?”

“That we’re holding hands? I believe so, assuming none of them have lost their eyes since I have last seen them. Although knowing Nicolette and Saeyoung, that is a distinct possibility.”

Aleks laughed, a nervous titter that made Jumin want to kiss him and never stop. “Right, Nicky and Saeyoung are here. They know me.”

He could not comprehend the sudden apprehension, though he desperately wanted to provide a remedy. “Is this…if you believe they will interrupt our date, you are mistaken. I promise you will hold as much of my attention as you wish.” He pulled Aleks’ hand towards him, placing his lips against his knuckles. The anxiousness drained away from him, replaced with the soft adoration that had graced his face last night. Jumin relished it, savoring the way it made him feel like a person who was wanted and not just tolerated.

“Forgive me and my foolishness. I am Russian. Back home, you would not be able to be in public with me, much less introduce me to your friends.”

Of course. He had not considered the realities of where Aleks had come from, and what it must have been like for him there. “I’m sorry…I didn’t…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. The fault is mine, not yours.” He squeezed their fingers together, the trembling that Jumin felt in them fading as he did so.

“Aleks…” he brought his free hand up, trailing his finger along the edge of Aleks’ jaw. “I never want to make you uncomfortable. However, I do not wish to hide my feelings for you. From anyone.”

Aleks gazed at him unblinking, his fingers curling tighter as he considered Jumin’s words. His eyes were full of fear and longing, warring in the waves of the great sea that stirred beneath the shining layer of tears building above the blue. They were perpetual midnight, perpetual storms in the midst of open, churning waters. They were full of everything, full of depths that Jumin could swim through forever and never find and end. Now, more than anything, they were full of _him,_ measuring Jumin against the timid beating of the artistic heart that had never belonged in the frigid wasteland it was born into. Aleks bit his lip, his decision wavering because his upbringing had taught him flight over fight, camouflage over honesty.

An altruistic observer would have said that Jumin kissed him in that moment to settle his fears, to calm him and bring him into the present with him, where they could meet his friends together. That purpose was still there, too, settled beneath the straw that had snapped his resolve in the end. In truth it was the drag of teeth across the trembling pink lip that made Jumin leap forward, cupping Aleks’ chin between his fingers and melding their faces together. They sighed, in tandem, as one, mirrored sentiments carried between two sets of lungs.

It didn’t last as long as Jumin wanted it to, because he was aware that everyone important to him had their eyes glued to the display, albeit from the corner of their gaze to maintain civility. He was also aware of the photographers at the other end of the room, who were supposed to be focusing on the actors but had now taken half a dozen shots of their intimate moment. There would be at least one article regarding his relationship status released by tomorrow, and he would need to warn Aleks about the oncoming publicity. That would be a conversation for later in the evening, however, when they were alone and Aleks could safely express whatever emotions it would draw out of him. He would not put him in that position while he was already fragile, clinging to Jumin as though letting go would mean tumbling into nothingness. Thus the kiss ended, but their contact did not, Jumin’s hand still twined with his while the other rested on his chin.

“Do you mean that?” Aleks looked ready to cry, or sing, or fling himself into his arms and never move again. Jumin discovered a new shade of red tinting his graceful cheeks, and he wondered if Aleks held every hue on standby in his freckled skin.

“About being open? Of course.”

Aleks shook his head, smiling. “No. About having feelings for me.”

How could he have doubts? “I am…” the confession was on the tip of his tongue, hanging there and waiting for his breath to return to finish the sentence, but he was robbed of the chance as someone barreled into them, arms scooping them both into a vice grip. Aleks yelped in surprise as Jumin glanced down to a see a shock of bright orange hair. He rolled his eyes and clicked his teeth together, feeling foolish that he had forgotten that his dearest friends were all idiots.

Saeyoung looked up at them, his eyes wide. “You. Are. So. _Cute_.”

“Oh my god, Saeyoung, you could have waited for them to come find us.” Nicolette walked up behind her lover, wearing a navy dress with white trim that made the emerald in her eyes stand out sharply. She gave him an apologetic grin, but it changed to alarm and then laughter as Saeyoung reached out and grabbed her, yanking her into the mess of arms and people that they had somehow found themselves in. She grinned at them, mirthful and bright. “Hi, Jumin. Hi, Aleks.”

Jumin nodded. “Nicolette.”

“Hello, Nicky. Good evening, Saeyoung.” Aleks smirked, Nicolette wedged between Saeyoung and himself on one side, smashed against Jumin on the other.

Jumin took a slow, bracing breath. “Saeyoung.”

“You’re about to threaten me, aren’t you?”

_“I’m_ about to threaten you.” Nicolette shuffled herself around until she could wrench and arm free, which she used to tug at Saeyoung’s earlobe. “Release us.”

“As my space princess commands.” He let them go, though he immediately wrapped an arm around Nicolette’s waist and kept her close to him, grinning, both smug and humbled at once. “Gentlemen, welcome.”

Jumin rolled his eyes. “Isn’t Zen the one who should be doing the welcoming? It is his play, after all.”

Saeyoung’s smile widened in a way that made Jumin regret having mentioned the actor at all. “Oh, he will, once he picks his jaw up off the ground.”

As though cued like the world were a stage for him to play on, Zen approached the group, with the remaining RFA members - plus Anna - all in tow.

“You just kissed him!” the words were blurted, rushed, jumbled together, and Zen’s jaw was, indeed, stuck in the open position.

“Zen!” Nicolette glared at him, which did nothing to perturb his nonplussed excitement.

“He just kissed him! Right there!”

“Yes.” Jumin adjusted the cuff link on his sleeve, watching Zen only out of the corner of his eye and trying not to smirk. “Why, is that not what you do with _your_ dates, narcissist? Or are you too busy taking selfies to notice Jaehee long enough to kiss her?”

Jaehee sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please do not include me in this.”

Zen’s form of retaliation was to take Jaehee in his arms, dip her so that they were both nearly horizontal, and kiss her like it was the theatrical climax of one of his tawdry films. When they returned to normal standing positions, Jaehee’s face was bright pink, and Zen was scowling at Jumin.

“ _That_ _’s_ how you kiss a date, robot-boy.”

Jumin raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Shall we put your technique up for discussion, then? Honestly, it was a bit dramatic and lacking in sincerity.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He reached over and took Aleks’ hand, smiling at everyone and looking away from Zen as he fumed. “My apologies, I have forgotten my manners. Everyone, this is Aleksei, my date for this evening. Aleks, this is my assistant Jaehee and her boyfriend Zen. You’ve met Saeyoung and Nicolette, so they hardly require further introduction. The young couple over here is Yoosung and his charming girlfriend Anna. Finally, we have Madam Vanderwood, and please don’t mind her attitude, I promise she is only half as surly as she appears.”

Aleks grinned, shaking hands with each of them, relaxing a little more as he was welcomed warmly.

Zen dropped all of his anger and smiled in the same stunning way that he would normally reserve for Nicolette. “Aleks, it’s an honor to finally meet you. I owe you a lot.”

“You do?” Aleks laughed.

“Yeah. For one, you’ve been keeping an eye on Nicky, and I’m pretty sure we’re all ready to throw you a parade for that. More than that though, you just made Jumin smile like a human being, and that’s worth just as much.” Zen’s grin was malicious, and Jumin frowned at him.

Yoosung shoved an elbow into the actor’s stomach before Jumin had a chance to respond.  “Bro, stop insulting him in front of his date.”

“What?” Zen shrugged, rolling his eyes. “I just said he was smiling.”

Jaehee sighed, shaking her head. “I need a drink.”

“Oh, let me get you more champagne.” Zen ducked behind her, disappearing into a small crowd of people near a table of refreshments.

“I didn’t mean…there he goes.” Jaehee blinked at where he had vanished, sighing.

Aleks squeezed Jumin’s hand, pulling his focus. “He’s…excitable.”

“He’s a helpless narcissist, but his heart is usually in the right place.” He leaned over, his lips close to Aleks’ ear so that the rest of them would not hear the next part. “Don’t let his surprise bother you. He’s incredulous because he knows it irritates me, not because he is unwilling to accept that I have brought you this evening.”

Aleks’ nodded, pulling Jumin closer to him. “Thank you. For…” he hesitated, and Jumin watched as he searched for the words, waiting patiently until he had completed whatever it was he wished to say, “for _moving._ ” It was succinct, and the perfect phrase to use, as Jumin knew precisely what it meant. While everyone around them heard an empty string of nonsense, Jumin heard a heartfelt admission that filled his chest with warmth. He kissed Aleks’ cheek, knowing that his own words would have failed him if he had tried to speak. He was grateful that he no longer needed to try and struggle to find what it was he wanted to say. There was always something he could do to show Aleks’ what he meant, writing volumes of purpose against his skin. Pictures were worth a thousand words, but a kiss? That never stopped telling the tale.

Zen returned, handing a a flute of fizzing gold to Jaehee and kissing her temple in a rush. “Here you go, babe. Sorry, I have to run now guys, we’re getting ready to start. Enjoy the show!”

“Hey, narcissist?” Jumin stopped him, carefully keeping his face passive.

“Yeah, trust fund?”

“Break a leg.”

Zen winked, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jumin. Just don’t blame me when your boyfriend leaves here more in love with me than you.”

_Dammit._ He scowled, irritated despite knowing that it was a jest, pulling Aleks into his side possessively. Zen only laughed, chuckling even as he walked away from them. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the actor retreat, taking a deep breath. His attention was fixated on possible methods of revenge, and so he was startled when Aleks reached up and pressed a finger against his cheek, turning his head so that he was looking at him.

“Not possible.”

Jumin opened his mouth to respond, the admission once more ready to burst out of him regardless of the other people in the room, regardless of his nerves and the alarming prospect of giving voice to things he had thought he might never feel. Again, he was robbed of the chance as a gentleman dressed in the theater uniform opened the doors and announced that it was time for them to be seated.

They filed in, taking their seats in the VIP section, their group taking up an entire row on their own. Jumin kept his hand locked with Aleks’ even after they had settled, pressing their arms together. To his incredible delight, Aleks shifted until his head rested against Jumin’s shoulder, and he had to blink back tears as his chest filled with overwhelming joy. Such a simple thing, such a common action that he had seen other couples do hundreds of millions of time. Never had it been his. Never had he held someone’s hand and had them lean on him, seeking contact for no other reason than it was wanted. Jumin was _wanted_.

The lights dimmed, and as the curtains drew across the stage Jumin kissed the crown of his boyfriend’s head, happier than he could ever remember being. He was surrounded by people that had fought for him as much as he had fought for them, by people that had helped to see him through some of the worst things imaginable, and still found it within themselves to smile at him and share the joy of the season with his presence. He had found someone that blushed because he smiled and kissed him like the rain kissed wilted flowers, who made music like an angel and trembled at every touch between them. He was not invisible. He was not hiding. He was seen, and he was accepted, and it was more than he could have ever hoped for.

_I am falling for you._ He had wanted to say it twice this evening, but the words had been stalled. Perhaps that was for the best, because it simply was not true. Jumin was not falling. His descent through the stars had happened weeks ago, starting on a windowsill on a cold winter day. He had been falling when he had taken that first cup of coffee and followed Aleks into his home. He had been falling when he had been jealous of an imaginary roommate, and falling faster when he had discovered his only competition to be a cat that was the rare feline on the planet to equal Elizabeth the 3rd’s perfection. He had been falling when he had jumped into his arms, hugging him because it was the only thing that had ever made sense to him. He had been falling up until the point that their lips had met, the sonorous tone of the piano fading as his heart had tumbled out of his chest and into another’s hands. Jumin was no longer falling, because he had already fallen, and it was the greatest feeling in the world.

 


	95. It Doesn't Matter Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the play ends, Nicky has an unexpected conversation, and Saeyoung goes in for surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dearest loves. 
> 
> I wrote this with a cold, so I apologize if it is total garbage. I did my best. I will also probably not have another update until the day after Christmas, because I will be very busy over the next two days with the holiday. 
> 
> Uh...I didn't plan for THIS chapter with THIS ending to be the one that comes before a small break, so I apologize. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME.

They rose to applaud with the rest of the crowd, unlinking their hands for the first time since the lights had dimmed and the curtain had risen. She smiled wider at the look on Zen’s face as he watched the audience cheer, growing louder as he moved to center stage to take a bow. He had been magnificent, and she was so proud of his performance. He had earned every minute of the recognition that they were each screaming at the top of their lungs. She was also proud that the RFA was the loudest row, deafening the others around them. Zen noticed, as well, and his delighted surprise was worth the soreness she was already feeling in the back of her throat.

Zen’s cheeks were rosy as he took another bow, plucking one of the roses thrown onto the stage and twirling it between his fingers. He stood up straight, making a show of smelling the flower before winking at the girls in the front row, causing them to dissolve into tittering sighs. He turned, and with a flourish he sent the ruby gift sailing over their heads, directly into Jaehee’s waiting hands. He blew a kiss at her, and both turned crimson in response, which made the rest of them laugh and whistle.

Saeyoung’s lips pressed against her ear as he reached his arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Have I thanked you yet for pushing Zen to make a move with her?”

She laughed, turning to him so that she could see the joy in his bright eyes. “No, I don’t think you have.”

“They look so happy.” He laid his chin against her head as he looked at the couple, watching each other from afar, and he sighed. “I only ever wanted everybody to be happy.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling it tighter around her as the applause started to die down around them. “And you?”

“I was never supposed to be happy.” He shrugged, making them both sway with the motion.

She looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of distress, trying to gauge if he was sinking into depression once more. “Are you? Are you happy?”

“Hmph.” He smirked, rolling his eyes, and her fears subsided. “Don’t give me that look. You know you make me happier than I ever deserved.”

“That’s all _I_ want.” She spun in his arms, pulling his face to hers so that she could kiss him and instill in him the sincerity of her words. It was tinged with desperation, because they both knew that their final night together for what could be a long time was drawing to a close. When they broke the contact, everyone around them was starting to file out of the theater, so she took Saeyoung’s hand and they followed suit. Their group made their way back to the VIP area, where they could meet up with Zen and congratulate him on his job well done in person. There was a small line to get through the doors as the security verified everyone’s tickets once more, so they gathered themselves to wait. She looked at the others, filling with bliss as she saw how happy each of them were. Anna was looking at Yoosung as though he had hung the moon, and Jumin refused to stop holding Aleks as closely as the pianist would allow. None of them looked troubled by the traumas they had suffered, and it gave her hope. Hope that they would all move on together. Even Vanderwood looked happy as she relived the moments of the play with Jaehee, the pair of them enraptured by the performance.

She tugged at Saeyoung’s sleeve and pointed, drawing his attention to the girls as Jaehee flapped her hands around in glee. “I think Zen might have another member in his fan club.”

“Wow, is she blushing?” he laughed, shaking his head. “Klein would have loved this.”

A hundred questions whipped around her head, because she wanted to know more about the third agent that Saeyoung and Mary rarely spoke of. “You were close with him, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I was.” His eyes filled with shadows, heavy and twisted. “I’ll tell you that story, one of these days.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking at him even though she was worried about the scars from his past. “Even the part about the nuns?”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be irritated despite the broad grin on his lips. “ _Fine,_ but only to you.”

“Hey, Saeyoung,” Yoosung turned from his spot in line to face them, rotating both himself and Anna, who was clinging to his elbow, “are you guys coming with us to dinner later?”

Saeyoung shook his head, sighing. “No, we won’t be able to stay much longer. I have to be at the hospital by ten. We’ll have to leave pretty soon.”

Jumin leaned close to Aleks, whispering something into his ear that made the Russian blush and nod before he turned back to the rest of them. “We will be declining that invitation, as well.”

Yoosung seemed to deflate, pouting. “Awe, come on. We just got to meet Aleks.”

“They’re on a date, Ducky.” Saeyoung winked at him, leering as he spoke. “I don’t think you wanna stick around for the parts that come next.”

Nicky widened her eyes, smiling as she looked from Saeyoung to Yoosung. “Oh, maybe we need to give him the talk?”

“About the birds and the bees?” Saeyoung’s words carried laughter and glee, and it mirrored her own.

She nodded, barely containing her smirk. “Yes. You see, Yoosung, when two papa’s love each other very much -”

Yoosung smashed his palm against his forehead, groaning. “Someone help me.”

Anna grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into her and kissing him with a ferocity that surprised them all. Yoosung’s eyes grew wide before fluttering closed, his hands moving to rest on her back. He leaned into the kiss, his fingers clenching against the straps of her dress as she sighed into him, a display that looked like it would have been right at home in the scenes of the play they had just watched.

When Anna pulled back she left him slack-jawed and doe-eyed, and she turned to face the rest of them. “Trust me, he knows his way around a date.”

They burst into laughter as Yoosung turned a shade of red that put beets to shame, although he kissed Anna on the cheek and murmured something into her ear that made her glow with pride. Nicky started a round of facetious applause, which the others picked up quickly. Yoosung looked like he wanted to hide, but then he looked at Anna, giggling and joyous, and he seemed to have thought better of it, taking a deep bow instead. Vanderwood clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over, which only made the rest of them dissolve into further mirth.

It was then that Nicky heard her name, spoken softly from behind their group as they inched closer to the VIP room. She turned, along with the rest of them, and she was surprised to see Liara standing in a modest dress, tucking her hair behind her ear as she shuffled her feet.

“Hey, Nicky.”

Aleks scowled, removing himself from Jumin’s arm for the first time in hours to come stand in front of Nicky. “What do you want?”

“I just want to talk to her, I promise.” Liara smiled, and it was a sad thing to see. This was no longer the proud girl that Nicky remembered from her first years at school. She was meek, and trembling, and even though Saeyoung’s arm tightened around her as he held her close, Nicky knew that Liara was no longer any threat to her. She stepped forward, putting her hand on Aleks’ shoulder to move him to the side.

“It’s alright, I can talk to her.”

“Are you sure? I can run her off, I know a great many words in Russian that sound very frightening to silly little girls who think it is funny to intimidate others.” He glared at Liara, and Nicky had to stifle a laugh as she watched Jumin swell with so much pride that he looked like an over-fluffed peacock.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She went to step forward, but Saeyoung grabbed her hand, gripping it to keep her from walking away. She met his gaze, and it was full of love when he looked at her, and hatred when he glanced at Liara. “I promise, I won’t go far, okay?”

“Stay in my sight?”

She leaned over, granting him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Yes, just a few steps away.” He nodded, releasing her hand, and she turned to walk towards one of the quiet corners with Liara, aware that her friend’s eyes were following them the entire way. The taller girl rubbed her arm, hanging her head so that her hair covered most of her face. She stopped when they were far enough from the milling crowds that they wouldn’t be overheard, and they stood there in silence for a few moments while Nicky gave her time to say what she wanted to.

“Thanks, for talking to me. I know you didn’t have to.”

Nicky shrugged. “It’s fine. Did you need something?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. For real, this time. I’m sorry that I let him come between us, and that I said I didn’t believe you. I know that an apology doesn’t really fix it, but…it felt important anyways.”

“Thanks. I…”

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

“I do, though. I think. Or, I understand, at least.”

“Thanks.” She kicked her foot against the ground, fidgeting with her hands as though she wished her dress had pockets. “I, um, I told Jen’s mom about everything we had done. She pulled her from school, and she’s going to go to therapy. So, she won’t be able to bother you anymore, either.”

“Oh. I see…I appreciate that.”

“Oy, Nicky, come one, Zen’s waiting!” Saeyoung waved his arm, raising and eyebrow as he tried to hold in his impatience. She sighed, turning back to Liara.

“Sorry, I have to go. Thanks for the apology. I really do appreciate it.”

“Thanks for hearing me out.”

She turned, starting to walk towards her friends, but paused, spinning on her heel to look at Liara as she stepped towards the exit. “Hey, Liara? What did you mean the other day, about not being alone on campus?”

Liara flinched, but when she turned back she shrugged as she smiled, the first one that had graced her face since she had run into her. “It doesn’t matter anymore, the semester is over, right?”

Saeyoung called her name again, and she turned to see him waving more frantically. By the time she glanced at Liara again the girl was already gone, disappearing into the crowds at the door. She wondered what the warning had ever been about, but she was confident that whatever it was must have passed. Perhaps it had been Jen that had destroyed her violin, and had been planning something further. If that were the case, she owed Liara a lot for turning Jen in to her parents. She sighed, brushing the whole thing out of her thoughts. She had friends to return to, and a successful actor to fawn over, since Jumin was probably already planning ways to knock him down a peg. She didn’t want to spend her evening dwelling on things that she couldn’t change, especially if they would no longer affect her.

She returned, nestling into Saeyoung’s waiting embrace as the security guard ushered them all into the next room. She would focus on being happy, because she was. Even though she still had a final to attend to, and even though there was still a lot of work on the horizon with Saeran, for now almost everyone in her family was gathered together and glowing with joy, and she wanted to savor that for as long as it lasted.

***

His eyes were on the stars outside of the windshield, but he still paid close attention as she put the car in park in front of the hospital doors. The light leaking through the tall windows blotted out some of the shimmering points of light above them, but when he blinked he could still see them, ever-present in the darkness of his mind. He sighed when her fingers found his own, lacing together with gentle urgency and care. She was looking at him, and he could feel it. He could feel everything that it carried, everything that he would crawl through any type of hell to protect and cherish.

“Ready?”

He turned to look at her, memorizing the way her eyes made his heart thunder in his chest. “Not even remotely, but that hasn’t stopped time from creeping forward.” He brought her hand up to his lips, first kissing and then nibbling her knuckles, because he couldn’t resist. “I am going to miss you so much.”

“Don’t think about that. Think about how much better this will be for Saeran.”

He took a deep breath, smelling her and feeling her and wishing that he could fast forward through all the bad parts so that he could get to the happy ending already. Saeran deserved his help, he deserved to be happy far more than Saeyoung did. He didn’t know how he was going to help, he didn’t know if it was even possible to fix all the things that he had broken, but he owed it to his brother to give it his best attempt. No matter how long it might take.

“Come on, I don’t want you to be late. You don’t want to piss off the people that are going to be sticking knives into your arm.” She reached over, opening the car door and stepping out, and so he did the same on his side.

He stood and leaned against the car, smirking as she made her way around to him. “Gee, when you put it that way, maybe I don’t need a fully functional arm after all.”

She wrapped her arms around him, palms pressing along his spine. “I like your arms and their functions. I would prefer, if possible, that you keep them at full capacity.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint my space princess.” He kissed her, more passionately than would normally be appropriate for public, but he didn’t care. He needed to steal every ounce of her that he could before he said goodbye. He needed to kiss her slowly enough and deeply enough that his head was still spinning for the next few days. He would need it to get through the trials that lay ahead, trials that he would have to face without her. Without her touch, without her smell, without her voice lighting up the room with song and laughter. He could call, they could text, they could chat, but he had already lived through days where that was all he had of her. He had agonized at the other end of a screen as he had fallen in love, and he knew exactly what would happen when he was put into that position again. He would be desperate for her in a matter of hours, and while he knew it was worth it, he also knew that he would hate it.

She pulled away first, and he hated that too, but he allowed it, because he knew that he wasn’t the only one with things to do this evening.

“I have to go. They already went out of their way to schedule this final for me at such a ridiculous time, I can’t keep them waiting.” She looked and sounded as sad as he felt, and he wanted to drag her into the back of the car and kiss her until she was humming with bliss.

Instead he kissed her again, greedy for her warmth as the time to relish it drew to a close. “I’m sorry I can’t be there for you during your last final.”

“Mm. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you after your surgery.”

He closed his eyes, holding her as the faint traces of her hum rolled through his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She rested her head against his chest, her cheek spreading warmth even through his jacket. “It’s completely ridiculous that we both have somewhere to be in the middle of the night.”

“Agreed. Although, when has anything we’ve done _not_ been completely ridiculous?”

She laughed, and he felt it thrum through him like magic and music. “Good point.” She tilted her head up, her chin still pressed into him, her eyes full of adoration that he could never in a million years truly earn. “I’ll call you after my final, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting. Maybe Saeran will let you say hello.”

“I hope so.” She sighed, pulling out of his arms, every movement caked in the same reluctance that rooted his feet to the spot. “Goodnight, Saeyoung.”

“Goodnight, Nicky. See you on the other side.”

She smiled, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes like comets that refused to soar. She walked away from him, getting in the car and starting the engine. She waved, once, and he returned it, feeling like there was so much more he wanted to do and say. He _already_ missed her. He already wanted to chase after the car as it rolled away, to throw open the door, jump in, and cling to her for just one more night. Then tomorrow he would rise and pray to God for another night further. He would repeat the cycle, resetting a hundred thousand times, always begging for more. He would never have enough of her to be satisfied. Forever wasn’t long enough, eternity still too brief.

Their night had finally come to an end, however, and there was no time left to ask for more. He watched her go, knowing that it might be the last time he saw her for a long time, and he prayed. He didn’t ask for another night, he didn’t ask for a hundred years. All he prayed for was her happiness, and Saeran’s happiness, and for God to grant him however long it took to build that future for them both.

He walked into his surgery feeling hopeful, knowing that this would be difficult, but worth it.

Afterward, he would always look back on that hopeful moment and wish that he had not been so naive. Had he not wasted so much energy on hope, he may have been able to prevent the things that had followed immediately after, but hindsight granted that kind of enlightenment. Still, it taught him a valuable lesson, one that he would remember after the millionth example had been presented to him, laid out in a sequence of events more chaotic than any of them had needed at that point.

No matter how well-intentioned, their lives would never go according to plan, and the night of December nineteenth was no exception to that rule.


	96. Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we had some time to kill before the plot moved forward, but I remember to remind you about it anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art at the end has once again been provided by Starkind (http://celeste-draws.tumblr.com/) who is the light of my life and probably the greatest internet sister that has ever existed. She drew this for me as a Christmas present and I do not even remotely deserve such majesty. GO FORTH AND SHOWER HER WITH LOVE SO THAT WE CAN COMPENSATE FOR HOW UNWORTHY I AM. 
> 
> The picture is technically unrelated to the chapter, but I thought that you all deserved something UTTERLY ADORABLE AND PERFECT. Plus I desperately needed to show it to as many people as physically possible because LOOK AT IT. THEY ARE SO GAY AND SO HAPPY. PLUS BONUS MISHKA. 
> 
> Anyways, have smut to wash the taste of the holidays from your mouth. ;)

The wine from dinner was singing in his blood, though the heady rush of tingles that ran up and down his spine had nothing to do with it. Every smile, every laugh, every shiver that shook him to the core was dedicated to and caused by Aleks. He was brighter and warmer than a bonfire, flames reaching up into the frostbitten sky, and Jumin was drawn to him like a moth. A moth whose wings fed on searing heat, who blazed into life the moment they touched and carried each of them to new heights. When they kissed, they were illuminated by their own glow, and Jumin understood what it was to need someone more than he needed his own sanity.

They reached Aleks’ apartment, and Aleks fumbled with the keys as Jumin wrapped his arms around him, placing his lips on the side of his neck. The tremble that worked its way through Aleks shoulders made Jumin smirk as the door opened and they stepped inside in a rush of breathless laughter and limbs. Aleks turned to kiss him the moment the door was shut, both tearing off their jackets and tossing them to the floor, heedless of where they fell. His lips were poetry painted across the stars, and Jumin used his tongue to count them. Aleks lost the last of his outerwear, down to his soft sweater, and he slid his hands beneath the ends of Jumin’s suit jacket, pulling it off his shoulders and sending it aloft in the direction that the rest of their things had gone. Jumin wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in closer, but he slowed the pace of their kiss, drawing out each motion until it turned to something cherished and wistful. He wanted more, but he also knew there was a conversation that he must have with this sweet, soft artist. He would not put it off until later. He knew the torture of being on the other end of a poorly kept secret, he knew the agony of dishonesty held between two hearts. He would not allow that in this new relationship. He would not allow distance to form in the cracks of half-truths.

They had made their way towards the bar in front of the kitchen during their kiss, and Jumin leaned against it, his hands resting on the small of Aleks’ back. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” his voice shook with a tremor of fear, and Jumin could not resist kissing him again, hoping that he could ease his doubts as to his intentions. He did not know if Aleks would change his mind once he found out the truth, but he wanted him to know that Jumin would not leave his side until he was asked to. The fear in Aleks’ expression when he had seen all of his friends waiting for them replayed over and over in his head, and he was terrified that he was about to summon it again.

He sighed, bracing himself as much as he was able. “I know…I realize that you were uncomfortable earlier, being in public with me -”

“Please, do not trouble yourself.” Aleks shook his head, smiling in a way that would never stop disarming Jumin and robbing him of his senses. “I promise, I am fine. Your friends made me feel more than welcome, even Zen.”

“I’m happy that you feel that way, but that’s not what we need to discuss.” Jumin leaned his head down and pressed his forehead against Aleks’, closing his eyes and trying to draw strength from their closeness. “There were photographers there, and I believe they took a number of photos of us throughout the evening.”

“Us? Why would they be interested in us?”

“I am the son of the chairman and current executive director of C & R International.”

Aleks cleared his throat, but made no move to pull away. “This, um…is this a big deal in this country, then?”

The confusion in his boyfriend’s voice was enough to make him smile widely, in spite of the fear and nerves still rumbling through his bones. “Yes, it tends to make our family somewhat of a spectacle. I’m afraid my personal life is the subject of public interest often, particularly when it concerns my relationship status.”

Aleks was very quiet and very still for a moment. “So…what you are saying is that we will be in the news.”

Jumin lifted his head so that he could look at him, a crease of worry forming between his lovely blue eyes. “I believe so. They have never failed to publish something in the past when they discovered information regarding my dating habits.” We wanted to fidget and fret, but he was still held so closely in Aleks’ arms, and he feared that it would only amplify his worry. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner, or warned you, but I did not think beyond myself until I saw your discomfort earlier this evening.” He looked down, licking his lips and praying, wishing that he had some way to hide from the horrible possibilities that could come from this revelation. “I will understand if you do not wish to see me anymore. If it is too much.” He left the end of his sentiment without voice, locking the unfinished thought between his lungs where it would not influence the decision that Aleks would make. Jumin would understand if Aleks no longer wanted to see him, but he did not know if he could survive it. There were only so many times a man could fall and not be caught before he learned to never fly again. His heart had been shattered too many times already, and once more would crumble it to dust. He would understand, and he would leave quietly without an ounce of resentment, but he would walk the streets as a man that was dead inside, remaining standing only because it would disappoint his friends if he were gone.

“Me?” Aleks dipped his head, trying to meet his gaze. “Jumin, this is your career, your family. I am not the one I am concerned about. This does not bother _you_?”

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to speak the truth despite his inclination to hide it and say only what was necessary. “Of course it bothers me. I would like them to leave me alone, to be able to keep my personal affairs private. I would like to be granted time to speak with my father regarding my sexuality without him needing to discover it in a tabloid before I am given the chance.” He took Aleks’ hand, brushing his thumb along the elegant knuckles, savoring their warmth as his eyes locked onto his. “However, I have spent my entire life hiding. From the public, from other people, from myself. I meant it when I said I don’t want to hide my feelings for you. So, if you are concerned that this would make me any less in love with you, then you would be mistaken.” He was shaking, terrified, huddling in the shadows of his doubts and the enormity of his admission. He had just said the words, words that he had never spoken before to another person with such sincerity, words that he had never meant more than he had in this moment.

“In love…with _me?_ ”

“I…I have fallen for you.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Aleks any longer, his eyes darting to their hands, still clasped together. He could hardly breathe around the fear ensnaring his lungs, suffocating him with each passing second. It was all he wanted to say, his love all that wanted to pour past his lips, and he knew that he could not have lived with himself without making sure that Aleks knew. Now that the truth was out there, however, he felt like his chest was ripped open and placed on display, lit from above and within so that every dark and twisted part of himself could be seen and appraised. He was vulnerable in a way that he had never allowed himself to be, and he had walked through that threshold with bravery. Now he stood mired in fear that rejection would be his only reward. It was too soon, too fast. His heart was too fragile and had been misplaced. He was as Zen said, an unlovable robot who would prove to be nothing more than an artist’s passing fancy, and his own attachment had been wishful thinking that paved the road to heartbreak. He was a fool to think he had found something so precious that would actually want him in return. “I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable. I should not have spoken…I only wanted…please, forget I said anything.” It was too late to take it back, too late to rewind his own realization and pretend he was not hopelessly lost to this man. He tried anyways, his words stuttered and ungainly, newborn fawn tumbling to the ground with ineptitude and shame.

The kiss caught him by surprise, Aleks pressing the length of his body against him as his palms pulled Jumin’s face to his. Jumin dared to rest his hands on Aleks’ hips, bracing himself against the rushing bliss that ran through his head, sending waves of dizziness across his still shaking form. He unfurled, a flower hit with morning mist and spreading petals to catch the dawn, soft and yielding to the whispered promise of hope. He didn’t care about the potential loss. He didn’t care about the possibility of heartbreak. Whatever came next, he could not regret being honest, because he loved this man, and the truth was painted across his soul in bold letters that erased his ability to cower and hide.

Aleks cradled his head and released his lips, looking up at him through lashes sparkling with the traces of tears. “Jumin, I composed a song about you, and you can still doubt my feelings? Silly, infuriatingly attractive boy. I have been smitten with you since the first day I saw your face. I have fallen for you, as well, and I am not frightened by these magazines and their gossip. If I have you, anything is worth it.”

“Really?” He couldn’t help but sound breathless, helpless, his relief and joy overflowing in a single rush of air pouring from his chest.

Aleks kissed him, wrapping his arms around his neck until his fingers had worked their way into his hair. Jumin leaned into the fervor, feeling his blood thundering through his veins as their lips embraced. He pulled at the edge of Aleks’ sweater, lifting it so that he could skirt his fingers along the other man’s stomach. He felt the muscles there flex in reaction to his touch, rising and falling as the breath hitched in his throat. Jumin’s heart pounded unevenly, and he pressed further, wrapping his palms around the top of Aleks’ exposed waist, just above the line of his pants. He pulled him forward, eliminating the remaining space between them. Aleks moaned softly into his mouth, and Jumin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt it hum against his tongue.

Aleks took a step back, pulling Jumin with him, leading them towards the bedroom. Jumin allowed this, his head spinning with desire and fear. He had been bold up to this point, and he knew that he wanted to plunge forward with Aleks, to dive into each other’s flesh and commit their love to blood and bone. He wanted things with Aleks that he could hardly put a name to, things that stirred emotions within him that knew no bounds, and he never wanted it to stop. But this was unfamiliar. He wanted to be confident, he wanted to be the lover that knew how to unravel his partner, building them up and tearing them down, all while making them sing his praises even if they cursed him in the same breath. He had taken pride in giving his previous lovers everything that they had been able to handle, pushing limits until they peaked so many times that the only name they knew was his own. He had learned what it was to make a woman lost in his arms, but a man? He felt as though he had been taken back to high school, as though he would be fumbling in the dark trying to determine what went where and what felt good. There were many years between himself and the adolescent, eager to keep up with V’s proclivity, and since then he had developed a taste for being prepared and proficient. It was unclear if he had the knowledge to be such in this case, and he did not enjoy the feeling that overtook him at the thought of failure.

They reached the bed, and Aleks pulled his sweater up over his head, revealing the cotton undershirt below it. He kissed Jumin, pulling him onto the mattress as he started unbuttoning his shirt, both resting on their knees atop the bouncy cushioning. Hands that were warm and eager tugged at the fabric as the buttons hung free, lifting it and tearing it away, tossing it to the side. Jumin gasped, shaking, shivering as Aleks gazed at him. He was desperate for Aleks’ arms, for his lips, for his strength and affection that burned poetry across the air, but he stood before him frozen, unable to move. Worse still, Aleks noticed the hesitation, and paused his own advance. He searched his eyes, looking him over and frowning.

“Are you alright?” there was not a hint of accusation or resentment, only concern.

“Yes.” It was a lie, but he wanted it to be true. He didn’t want to stop, he didn’t want to halt the progression towards something that he desperately craved. He could not move.

Aleks smirked, the expression one of doting devotion. “Nervous?”

Jumin nodded, incapable of words, and Aleks smile grew sweet and patient, everything that it needed to be to settle the aching fear in his chest enough so that his thoughts could find space to breathe.

“Close your eyes.” The command was simple enough, and Jumin complied, inhaling slowly as he felt Aleks shift forward on the bed. Delicate lips pressed into his jaw, and he shuddered with delight. “You are too much in your head. When you listen to me play, you stop over thinking things, and you are just yourself. Imagine that feeling. Imagine that you are there again, but listen to the music in here.” Aleks traced the shape of a heart with his finger across Jumin’s chest, sending tendrils of tingling heat racing from each point of contact. “Listen to the music there. Listen to yourself. What does the music in your body tell you that it wants to do?”

Was it so simple? To do nothing more complex than listen to what his body wanted, and allow everything else to fall away? He opened his eyes, looking at the man in front of him, hair hanging over half of his face so that only one eye peered across the dim air. The lights from the front room were the only thing that illuminated him, creating a silhouette of amber and grace that made Jumin’s fingertips twitch with the desire to touch him. What he wanted to do? Was that the only question? That was a very easy answer to find.

He threw himself at Aleks, knocking them both flat onto the bed, locking lips with him as the other man gasped in surprise. He settled on top of him, lining up their bodies as he rolled his hips into Aleks, the sweetest friction passing through his pants and sending shuddering pleasure racing along his spine. He deepened their kiss as their breathing grew heavy, everything lip and tongue and heat that flooded his senses and made him blind to all else. Aleks wound his hands around Jumin’s back, pulling him closer, and Jumin responded by thrusting forward again, feeling both harden beneath the thin layer of pants between them. He could feel Aleks pressing against him, pushing against his clothes, and the sensation nearly undid him with a finality that would have disappointed him with its brevity. He was not ready for this to end, was not ready to stop the tumultuous dive into the oceans of need that Aleks awakened in him.

He pulled at the undershirt keeping him from exploring more of the flesh he craved, lifting it up as his knuckles brushed against the skin below. It was soft, giving way wherever he came in contact with it, supple and smooth. A groan worked its way through his chest as he felt the rise and fall of Aleks’ breath beneath his hands, rhythmic and musical, invaluable because in this moment it was also _his._ Aleks unwound himself so that he could help remove the undershirt, throwing it askance. He pulled Jumin down again in an instant, their skin meeting, every inch of Jumin lighting up with sparks and euphoria. His hands drifted lower, caressing Aleks side, what they could reach of his stomach, burrowing around to feel his bare back. Aleks grabbed his hips as he kissed him, rolling with him as Jumin rutted against him once more, both moaning together.

Jumin moved his lips down along his musician’s jawline, reaching his neck and hovering there. He placed an open-mouthed kiss across the center, thrusting his hips again as he sucked at the beating skin. He let go, gasping into Aleks’ ear as he felt how hard the other man was, rigid as their hips clashed together. Aleks moaned, long and lyrical, and Jumin felt it carve memories into his bones so that he would never forget that sound and what it _did_ to him.

He pulled back, bracing his arms on either side of the man below him, looking down at Aleks. He adored the heat in his gaze, the ruddy smear of pink across his cheeks. He looked miraculous. He looked like a work of art, painted into life by the desperate wish of a lonely man, perfection that was gasping beneath him and lighting up his heart and soul. He moved down, lowering himself so that he was poised above Aleks’ stomach. He lifted one hand, trailing it down the center of the stuttering abdomen before him until it reached the button of Aleks’ pants. Jumin looked up, watching Aleks bite his lip

Poetry.

He undid the fastening, then shifted his weight so he could pull the pants away, dragging his boxers along with them. Aleks sprang free, falling against his stomach, and Jumin inhaled the way he smelled, intoxicated by it. He felt feral as he looked at the smoldering heat in Aleks’ eyes, the overwhelming urge to have him swirling in the pit of his stomach, killing the last of any doubt or hesitation that he had left rolling around in his addled brain. He kissed Aleks’ stomach, which made the man’s eyes roll back in his head, a reaction that evoked hunger in him that had never before existed. Jumin grabbed his length, rolling his thumb across the tip, and Aleks bucked his hips, tossing his head deeper into the pillow with a tremulous whine.

What did Jumin’s body tell him that it wanted? Again, the answer was easy. He lowered his head, moving his hand and licking along the length of Aleks’ erection, reveling in the sound that the other man made as he writhed in pleasure. Jumin trailed kisses from the bottom back to the tip, then slid the head between his lips.

It was like velvet stretched over steel, both soft and rigid against his tongue. He could taste the evidence of Aleks’ arousal welling from the end, a hint of salt atop the subtle flavor of flesh and desire. Jumin glanced up, meeting Aleks’ gaze as the man struggled to keep his eyes open, chest heaving, skin aflame. Supernovas burst into life in his eyes, full of love and unending devotion that expanded out to fill all of time and space. Jumin took more of him in his mouth, twisting his tongue against the silk skin, and Aleks closed his eyes, moaning into the air as his fingers curled into the sheets. Jumin’s own lashes fluttered closed as he lifted his head, sucking in his cheeks as he ascended. He reveled in the feel of Aleks in his mouth as he spun his tongue around the tip before sinking down again, this time lower. Soft curls of dark hair brushed against his nose, and he nuzzled them before rising once more. His own erection throbbed beneath the confines of his pants, and he thrust against the bed as he continued working his mouth up and down, pulling more and more of Aleks in and out of him with each repetition. The friction of his hips against the mattress wasn’t nearly enough, but there was something enthralling about the delicious torture of his own need being unmet while he gave Aleks everything he had. Aleks’ hips twitched, moans and whines fluttering between his lips like song and sin, each one precious and loved for what it was, for what it meant. There was no further dance on the edge of commitment from Jumin while his doubt tore holes through his resolve. Aleks was unraveling, thread by thread, the heated brush of tongue enough to make him arch his back and his hands ball into trembling fists. Instinct wiped away all confusion, the music in his heart whispering the truth, that what he wanted to do to this man and what this man wanted to be done to him were one in the same. As natural as the endless phases of the moon that drew the tides to the shore, a rhythm he had always known but never bothered to chase and follow.

“Jumin, love, I’m…I’m going to…”

Jumin knew what he was going to do, and he also knew that he in no way wanted to stop what he was doing because of it. He increased his pace, undulating his tongue as he ground his own erection against the sheets. Aleks whined, tossing his head back, lifting his hips upward until he was pressed all the way down Jumin’s throat. He relaxed his mouth to accommodate him, and with a strangled cry Aleks released the tension that had built within him. Jumin watched his face as it formed a reverent ‘o’, swallowing and tasting the thick, salty-sweet tang on the back of his tongue. He smiled, his own hips rolling into the mattress as he rode out the heady pleasure of bringing Aleks to completion this way, being able to feel the surge of his muscles as he lost his senses to Jumin’s touch.

Jumin pulled his mouth away, sucking the excess moisture off as he went. He laid his head against Aleks’ stomach, breath ghosting across him as they both regained their composure. Jumin’s abdomen felt coated in fire, his arousal begging to be attended to, though he made no attempt to move or relieve it. Aleks sat up, lacing his fingers through Jumin’s hair and turning his head so that he was looking up at him. His eyes were full of adoration, with a tantalizing mix of sleepy heat mingling within the blue that made Jumin’s breath catch in his throat.

Aleks shifted, gently moving Jumin off him and to the side so that he could slide down the bed until their faces were level again. He kissed him, his tongue prying apart their lips to dance just inside the span of his mouth while his hands trailed down to the button on Jumin’s pants. He popped them open with a deft flick of his fingers, undoing the zipper just as easily. Jumin moaned as Aleks palmed him through the fabric, growling as his body begged for more pressure, more friction. Aleks obliged him by pulling his pants down and out of the way. Fingers, long, graceful, perfect fingers, wrapped around him, pumping up and down with agonizing slowness as their lips worked together frantically. Jumin felt as though he was losing his mind as Aleks rolled his thumb over the sensitive stretch of skin below his tip, his heart stuttering to a halt and sticking between his ribs as he tried to remember what breathing was. Aleks seemed to know exactly what he needed and exactly when it needed to be done, connected to him in ways that transcended the mere physical. Jumin’s breath was ragged in the back of his throat, coarse as it rattled in his lungs. He wanted more, he wanted this to last forever, lost in the murmurs of their kiss and melting into the palm of the man he loved.

“Show me, my love. I want to see you. Come for me, Jumin.” The phrase was muttered between sighs and moans, and Jumin couldn’t tell from whom they were coming from anymore. Jumin unraveled between his lover’s fingers after no more than a few more strokes, the tender words more than enough to drive him over the edge. He broke their kiss, burying his face in Aleks’ neck as he came, moaning his name across his skin. Aleks caressed him until he was no longer twitching, growing soft in the warm embrace of his slowing hand.

He kissed Jumin’s temple, rolling away for a moment to grab his undershirt off the floor, using that to clean them both up. He tossed it away when he was done, pulling Jumin into his chest and holding him as they settled against the pillows, running his fingers through his hair. Jumin hummed in approval, his eyes growing heavy as his body relaxed in blissful languor. He was happy. Well and truly, without reservation or fear. In this one moment he felt safe, and warm. He felt as though he was loved in equal measure to the way he had loved, two hearts filled with the same amount of awe and bliss for the same purpose. All the decisions he had made, all the moments where he thought he had carved mistakes that could never be undone into the story of his life, they had led him here. No mistake could outweigh the love and joy he felt now. For the first time that he had ever lived, Jumin Han no longer had regrets, and that was freedom that he had not expected.

“I love you.” Aleks whispered the admission, whispered it like a prayer to the altar of their dream bound bodies, whispered it like it was the most sacred utterance that had yet left his lips.

Jumin looked up at him, his smile small and true and everything that he had always wanted to feel fluttering behind it. “I love you, too.”

Sleep was calling him, and he settled against his boyfriend to answer that summons. His consciousness was just starting to fade into the effervescent realm of dreams when his phone chimed in his pocket, causing both of them to jump at the sudden disturbance. He groaned, wanting to leave it unanswered but knowing that there were any number of things that he would regret ignoring because he wanted to snuggle further. He fished it out of his still unbuttoned pants, seeing Saeyoung’s picture plastered across the screen. It was a call, and not a text, which made a small ball of worry worm its way into his stomach. It was never good when Saeyoung opted to call.

“Do you mind if I answer?” he glanced at Aleks, who nodded groggily.

“Of course, you don’t need to ask _my_ permission.”

Jumin smirked, placing a small kiss on Aleks’ chin as he pressed the green button. “Hello?”

Saeyoung’s voice filtered through the other end of the line, and all it took was one phrase, spoken in a tone that carried with it fear and self-loathing, worry and utter despair, and Jumin was no longer sleepy in the least.

“I fucked up.”

 


	97. He Couldn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we roll back the clock a bit.

12:08 am, December 20th. One hour and seventeen minutes before Saeyoung makes a phone call to Jumin.

***

They had woken him up in the middle of the night to give him something. He had only been pretending to sleep, but they had shaken him until he opened his eyes to glare at them. They made him sit up, and slid the needle into his vein, medicine creeping under his skin like shards of molten glass. It reached his heart and fractured him, making the world speed away. He felt like he was floating far above it all, and everything that he saw and heard and touched didn’t matter because it existed in another dimension. He was infinite, he was finite, and he was dripping down a drain that had been tugging at his edges for all of time.

He still couldn’t sleep.

Now he couldn’t pretend, either. All he could do was sit and feel the air around him, thick enough that it pricked against his skin like needles carried on wings that fluttered without stirring the wind. Blinking took too much effort, so he stared wide-eyed at nothing, letting his eyes dry out to the point of pain before threading his lashes together and giving in. The cycle would repeat when he pried them open once more. He sat that way for a thousand years. He counted. Each second spanning an eon, a drop in the sea of time that history bobbed upon, a frail wooden boat of toothpicks that would be swallowed and forgotten. He was captain of the ship of dreams, the nonessential outsiders that would have been happier had they never existed, guiding his crew of loneliness and regret until they found their end. No sails, no anchors, just relentless drifting in whatever direction the tides would will. He had never been able to guide his own fate, rudderless and floundering, and it was no different the further he inched towards death.

He couldn’t wait to die.

The nurses came again. It was out of pattern and disturbed him, but his limbs were too heavy to move any longer. They lifted him from the bed, tearing away the blankets that had been his shield for days unending. He was stripped, exposed, glared at like a malformed mutt that had scrabbled from the dark corners of the flea-bitten streets. He shivered, and it hurt to do so, every flinch of every muscle marking his bones with cracks that splintered and broke apart. He sobbed, trying to breathe, trying to retreat away from his own body, trying to curl into a ball that couldn’t be bent or smashed. They were putting clothes on him, and it felt strange. The fabric was scraping his skin off, he could feel it ripping like tissues, he would be ground to dust in moments. He whimpered, and that hurt too, the air in his lungs too thick to push through, too hard to pass along his throat to make sound. He drifted on his matchstick raft, trying to perch in the middle, away from the crushing waves that lapped at him. Every drop in the sea was made of torturous agony, thirsty for his screams, hungry for his tears. The nurses jerked him to and fro, and the water touched him, coated him, soaked him to the bone so that he was one with misery and despair. He had always been of the sea, always been of the pain and the fear. It had been a dream that it was ever different.

He couldn’t dream anymore.

When he was dressed, they led him into the hall. He was leaving? Where would he go? His grave. He would like it there, he was sure. The cold earth could choke the breath from his chest and he would be no more. The tears of disaster would water the roots of the flowers that no one would leave by his tomb. He could bloom. He could be free and he could stop feeling the weight of the world behind his eyes, the click-clack of heels in the hallway that heralded pain, the click of the gun against his palm before he spilled the last of the wine. He looked up, blinking in the bright lights, unable to find a window. His brother stood at the end of the hall, arm in a sling, eyes dark behind the reflection on his glasses. He wasn’t smiling. That was wrong. He always smiled. He always smiled even when it was a lie, because he was the best liar in the whole wide world.

He couldn’t smile either.

Saeyoung took his arm as the nurses let him go, and Saeran was surprised at how soft his fingers were. No bruises. How could anyone hold anything so gently? Did not all hands seek to mark him like the cursed child that he was? Not a child. A man, starved of hope and success, starved of everything that would have made him whole or complete. He was a vacuous void, taking the light around him and ripping it from its socket, tearing down the stars so that he could smash them like errant Christmas lights, the glass below his feet ripping through his skin so that he could bleed across the carpet. Across the tile. Across the sands of time that stood on the shores of the sea that would drown him. It would be so peaceful to drown. Air crushed from his chest by the cold water, filling him, finding all the spaces full of molten hate and cooling them to stone.

He couldn’t wait to drown.

Saeyoung led him through the halls and out the door, looking up at the sparkling night sky. He smiled, tremulous, timid, a flicker of life on a dead liar’s face. He looked Saeran over, eyes marking spots on his shivering form. Bruises, scrapes, sagging skin and trembling limbs, scars set deep in his bones that never healed and never faded. Saeyoung could see it all, and his eyes filled with water from the endless sea that showered pain against his raw and aching flesh, rippling in rivers that never drowned him no matter how much he begged.

“I’m sorry this took me so long.” His voice was low, lyrical, living words tumbling from his lips that meant nothing. Took so long for what? For smiling? For soft fingers that didn’t bruise? For leading him to his grave? That had been a long time coming. _That_ he was impatient for. He would accept pleas for forgiveness if it led him closer to death.

Saeyoung started walking, and Saeran trailed after, carried by the hand around his arm. _Gentle._ When was the last time anything in his world had been gentle? The Savior had been gentle, coaxing buds from the soil in the spring, soft hands pawing through his hair as she listed all the horrible things that she would protect him from. Then summer came, the high heat of a sun that could not help but burn hotter, brighter, blinding as it crushed the moisture from the recoiling world below. He had shriveled and wished for death, but it never came. Paradise had been a lie, one more promise that had never come true. He had promised Nicky paradise, but it had never been his to give. He would have killed her and the only thing that would have amounted from it was another corpse, rotting in the festering waters that surrounded his raft. Matchsticks that would never catch fire because he had no light to give them, a swirling sea of hate and violence that drowned him without ever letting him die. Paradise was never something he had control over. What a liar he had become.

He couldn’t save anyone.

They were in the parking lot, and Saeyoung was looking at him again. “Hold on, okay? I’m going to call a ride, and then we can go home.”

_Home._ What was that? What did those letters mean when strung together, that sound coming out of lips that had once promised a world brighter and better than paradise and never delivered? Had he ever had a home? He had a temple, erected with a shimmering mint rooftop that defied the angled peaks of the mountain. He had a place of worship that had housed him while he did the bidding of a woman that had been destroyed when the click of the gun smacked against his palm and the wine spread across the floor. That had never been home, no matter how much he had wished it.

He couldn’t think of home.

Oh, but he could.

Fear coiled in his stomach, his pulse jumping its pace and tempo, flitting against rips that were suddenly too tight against his lungs. Home. The dark apartment, bloodstains on the carpet that she had beaten him for. He had died a hundred thousand times in the back end of a closet, only to be disappointed every time that his eyes opened again. Bruises, fists with knuckles like ice and iron, words that cut like sharpened steel. Despair, rank and reeking, settling over everything like a tepid pall that blocked his view of the sky. Mother, Mom, Mommy, all the names that he had called her filling him and appearing light fireworks across the barren walls. Names that he had uttered in the futile hope that one would slow her rage, that one would be the magic word that could calm the beast and release his true mother from her prison. Maybe if he could have just stopped crying then he could have found salvation. Maybe if he could have stopped flinching she would have changed, and she would have loved him just like he had always wanted. _We can go home._ Saeyoung was taking him back there. He was calling mother now, telling him that he had been found, telling him that they would return to her.

The screaming echoed in the back of his brain. His own, his Savior’s, Nicky’s, his brother’s. All the screams of all the people broken and smashed against the violence and turbulence and empty promises of the world. Their blood and pain was the shading on the stained-glass windows that they pelted through, riotous colors that shattered because they tried to reach for it, tried to hold the beauty between fingers that could only destroy. _Mommy._ He wanted to die, but never like that. He wanted everything to end, but _not_ by her hands. She would not get to claim his failing heart as her final accomplishment. He would not allow it.

He couldn’t go back there.

He lurched forward, feet thick and uneven, his body still flooded with whatever drugs that drowned him in languor. He grabbed Saeyoung’s arm, the one not in a sling, the one with the phone in his hand, pressed to his ear. He wrenched him to the left, knocking everything askance. Tilting, turning the world on a pivot point around the phone, grabbing it and knocking it to the ground. Saeyoung grimaced, shuddering. He had wrenched his shoulder, had moved him into a realm of pain that Saeran was forever trapped in. Good. Let him know what it meant to be the lesser twin.

“No. I won’t go back.”

“Saeran, calm down. Back where? I’m not taking you back anywhere.”

No. Lies. Always lies, from everyone everywhere. The stars twinkled from above like she was watching him, judging him, disappointed in his inability to face the death that they had planned for him. _Never._ He would die on his own terms. He would spread his arms and chase the sky, and he would know what it was to fly before he closed his eyes for the final time. She would never have him. His mother would never have him. His brother could not make him go, could not drag him back to the prison he had left him in. He was free, he had escaped, he had burned the bars and fled the scene and not once had he thought to look back. _Never. Never ever._

He couldn’t go back.

Saeyoung reached for him, and Saeran threw his arms out, his palms crashing into his brother’s chest. Saeyoung’s eyes widened, shock and pain tattooed in the lights of his eyes, reaching for him as he lost his footing in the ice. He sailed backwards, his head smashing into the car behind him as he went, a thump with a metallic echo that ratted through Saeran’s ears. He hit the snow, flat on his back, eyes closed. He didn’t move. He didn’t move like the nurse he had hit with the tray. He didn’t move like Nicky as the wine poured out of her middle. He didn’t move like V who had jumped in front of the click against his palm. Nobody moved after he touched them. Nobody moved after he saw them.

He couldn’t let the unmoving carry him home.

He looked up at the sky, the stars silently bearing witness to his violence and rage. He would grow wings and rise. He would rush up and kiss the quiet silver points, and from them he would steal the last light to guide him from this place. He would soar across the heavens, brush against paradise, and then he would plummet like the opposite of Icarus, wings caked in ice so heavy that they no longer bent. He had always thought that death would come with the cracking bones as he raced into the ground, but he was wrong. Death was in the sky, in the highest points beyond the curve of the Earth, in the blank spaces between the stars, in the scars of light carved across the emptiness by the explosions that were hundreds of millions of miles away. He stepped away from his unmoving brother, leaving him to his fate in the blankets of snow, leaving him behind as nothing more than a memory. Maybe someday he would see him on the other side. He walked out of the parking lot, eyes aimed upward, and he looked for his place of liftoff.

He couldn’t wait to fly.


	98. Belissimo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeyoung comes to.

1:12 am, December 20th. Thirteen minutes before Saeyoung makes a phone call to Jumin.

***

She was exhausted, but there was a certain glee that she could not suppress, knowing that she had survived the semester. It was ridiculously late, and she couldn’t wait to get home and crawl under the covers, call Saeyoung to wish him goodnight, and sleep undisturbed until she couldn’t stand to stay in bed any longer. She had certainly earned it over the past few weeks. She shook her head, feeling her hair brush against the scarf wrapped around her neck, sticking to the clinging fabric as she worked her way through the slippery snow. She couldn’t believe that she had just finished a final at one in the morning. One of the professors had shown up late, so they had started an hour after they should have, and then once she was done she had to receive all her feedback. One of them nitpicked her “tendency for over dramatics”, but overall she had received a good score, and her grade point average had remained intact. She wished that she could take a moment to celebrate that achievement with Saeyoung, but it was too late for that now. He was closed off to her as he tried to save his brother, and while she couldn’t resent him for a cause so worthy, his absence was already settling over her like a storm cloud. She hoped that taking Saeran home would help him, and that things would improve for them all soon.

The campus was empty as she walked to the parking lot, not a soul wandering the grounds at this hour. It was nice to have the entire place to herself, although she hadn’t minded the presence of people since Liara had spoken to her the other day. Things weren’t as unpleasant. Liara had been the driving force behind most of the aggression, and after her wall of anger had crumbled, nobody else had the heart to stick with it. Nicky faded into anonymity, just like she had wanted. She was glad, too, since it had given her good reason to tell Aleks not to come with her for her final, so that he could go and enjoy his date with Jumin. She smiled to herself, remembering how happy they had looked together. It was good to see Jumin with unabashed joy on his face, no hint left of the storm that had raged in his head those tension-filled hours in his apartment.

The RFA was happy, their trials put behind them, and she was so glad that she had gotten to be a part of it.

She thought she heard something behind her, and she slowed her steps, turning her head. She saw only shifting shadows, the empty branches of the trees casting dark lines across the white snow. The lamp post closest to her on the walkway had burned out, so the only light was being cast from the crescent moon above, bathing everything in silver. It looked like a painting, sad and abstract, empty of all signs of life. The world seemed frozen around her, more so than what the cold was capable of doing. Time itself spun to a halt, only the faint shimmer from the sky still granted any motion. She listened, but the only thing she heard was the whisper of her breath as it turned into puffs of steam against her lips. Silence, profound and expansive, filled her ears. She started walking forward again, listening to the snow crunch under her shoes as she watched the walkway behind her, eyes searching for any sign of what must have only been her imagination.

Of course, she had assumed the sound had come from behind her, because that was where she thought she had heard it. It hadn’t occurred to her to keep her eyes in front until she walked into someone, their hands wrapping around her upper arms as she tried to keep from toppling over, feet sliding in the snow as they came to an abrupt halt.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you…there…”

“Nicolette, it’s so _good_ to hear your voice.”

His eyes were wide and bright beneath the brim of a soft hat, his smile like the rictus of a corpse, lined with stubble that darkened the lower half of his face. Her heart stopped. It didn’t stutter, it didn’t race, but stopped in her chest so that she couldn’t hear her own pulse any longer. All she heard was his breath as it left his lungs, close enough to her face that she could feel it. His hands, so much larger than the span of her arms, were gripping her firmly.

_Hands shoved beneath the hem of her skirt, pushed upward hard enough to leave a trail of stinging pain along her thighs. He shoved her back against the wall, lifting her into the air as she tried to push him away, but it was no use, he was a solid mass of indomitable strenght and her fists held no power. She sucked in a breath to scream, but he stole it from her, ripping it from her lips as he rammed his tongue into her mouth. She grimaced, and she knew it was a grimace because it hurt the back of her jaw with how low her cheeks wished to bend. She tried to kick out, but he used that to his advantage, grabbing her knee and holding it up as he pressed his hips into her. She felt a bead of sweat form where her leg was bent, overheated from rage and frustration as her skin burned with revulsion. It tickled as it held there, hovering against her flesh. It was all she could think about, all she could feel, all that existed. Not his hands, not his tongue, not the scrape of stubble across her chin or the rigid insistence pressed between her legs. The most important thing was that single drop of sweat, and her careful patience as she waited for it to fall. When he was finished, she would wipe it away, and she imagined the relief she would feel to no longer have the itching sensation tucked in the folds of her skin._

Nicky stepped back, shaking visions from her head that felt vivid and real, as well as ethereal and diluted by time and denial. He let her go, hands falling to his sides as he mirrored her movement, keeping pace, keeping close, leering at her with the same crazed ferocity that had been in his gaze that night. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He was in prison, and she must have slipped and fallen, cracked her head, she was having one of her nightmares again. She hadn’t had one in months, hadn’t woken up screaming in the hopes that someone, anyone would hear them through the silenced door and come to put an end to her torment. In real life she had managed to break free, she had slapped him hard enough that he had let her go and then she had run from the room without ever looking back. In her nightmares she was never able to, and he did everything to her that he had promise.

“No. You’re not here.” She denied it outright, out loud, with trembling conviction that hovered in the air as a little cloud until the cold killed the heat from her breath.

He sighed, closing his eyes and clasping his hands in front of his chest. “Belissimo, amore mio. It has been so long since I could hear you.” He took a step forward, invading her space, towering over her as she tried to stumble back. “I thought of your voice every day. They let me off early, for being such a model prisoner. I did it for you, so that I could see you again.”

Let him out early? Six months. He would have only served six months for biting her lip until it bled and ripping her panties so that his fingers could violate her. She had spent every day battling against the memory, and now the demon of lust and greed stood before her, declaring that she had been his motivation for good behavior. She had thrown up after every nightmare, and he had remembered her fondly.

“No. Go away.” The words were mumbled, her lips shaking badly enough that she could do no better.

“Nicolette,” he reached his hand out, placing it just below her chin and holding it tight as she tried to jerk it away, “I don’t want to go anywhere without you ever again.”

***

1:22 am, December 20th. Three minutes before Saeyoung makes a call to Jumin.

***

It was not the throbbing in his head that roused him, or the burning cold that was settling into his bones. It was not the trembling in his limbs, or the strange urgency that he felt as he was dragged back to consciousness. What brought him to the shores of the waking was the screeching pain in his shoulder, burning as though he were in the middle of the operation. He gasped, sitting up and adjusting his arm, feeling snow stick to the back of his hair and all along his spine. He blinked, trying to remember what was happening, trying to orient himself around the terrible pain. He fixed the strap on his sling, so that it bore the weight more evenly, and that alleviated his agony enough to take the edge off so that he could think.

He clenched his teeth, realizing that he hurt because his anesthetic had finally worn off.

The events that had happened when he left the hospital came rushing back to him, a horrible replay of his brother’s empty expression turning to blind terror in the blink of an eye. He remembered Saeran’s hands pushing him back, his shoulder wrenching in the process so that he lost his balance as he tried to cope with the pain. He remembered the hard metal cracking into the back of his head as he went down, and then nothing until his shoulder had roused him from oblivion again. He scrambled to his feet, turning in a circle and looking around the empty parking lot. There were sets of footprints leading away from the area, but they moved in several directions, and disappeared at the edge of the iced over street.

“Saeran?!” his throat was hoarse, the sound teetering on the brink of clarity as he tried to scream his brother’s name. He should not have done this alone. He was an idiot to think Saeran would have just come with him quietly, even after being sedated. He hadn’t wanted to ruin anyone’s evening, so he hadn’t asked for help. Nicky was going to kill him. “Saeran!!” he added volume and panic to his words, looking in every direction.

The parking lot was empty, the streets bare. Clouds were rolling in on the far horizon, a brisk wind picking up to carry them faster. It would probably be snowing again within the next couple of hours, and any hope of a trail would be long gone. He looked at his feet, brushing chilled air away from his glasses so that he could see better, and he spotted the metal corner of his phone sticking up out of a mound of snow. He bent over to pick it up, careful not to shift his throbbing injury, and brushed the crusted white away from the device, pressing the button on the front. The screen lit up, and while there was a crack webbing its way from the bottom, it did not appear that he had lost any function.

He unlocked the screen and pulled up Nicky’s contact information and pressed the call button. He clutched the phone between his chin and good, non-throbbing shoulder, brushing the snow out of his hair with his free hand. Some of the white powder that had been attached to him came away pink or crimson, and he knew that he would need to be checked for a concussion once Saeran was found.

Nicky didn’t answer, the call switching to her voicemail after ringing five times. He grabbed the phone again and looked at the screen, frowning. Jesus, it was 1:23 in the morning, which meant that he had been out for over an hour. It also meant Nicky should have been at home by now. He didn’t think she would have gone to sleep without talking to him. He didn’t have any missed calls. He hung up without leaving a message and dialed again, pressing it to his ear as he looked at the rolling darkness around him. Five more rings, and then the answering machine again. A third try did not yield different results.

_Dammit._ Why wasn’t she answering? Had she forgotten her phone somewhere? Had she fallen asleep waiting for him to be the first to call? Why hadn’t she texted? He gave up, pulling up Jumin’s information as a horrible feeling of dread settled into the pit of his stomach. He pressed the call button, stamping his feet to try and warm up again, willing his body to stop shivering so that some of the pain in his shoulder would subside. He was an idiot; a stupid, worthless idiot. If anything had happened to Saeran it would be all his fault. Everything that had happened to him up to this point had been all his fault, so he supposed it was at least consistent of him to continue the trend. His guilt was enormous, his fear sharp like the stabbing agony lancing through his arm.

Jumin answered after four rings. “Hello?” he sounded sleepy, and happy, and Saeyoung added a new reason to hate himself on tonight’s ever expanding list, because whatever fun Jumin had been having was now going to come to an abrupt halt because of him.

“I fucked up.”

“What’s wrong? Are you home yet?” the sleepiness disappeared from his friend’s voice instantly, and Jumin was on high alert like a startled panther.

He laughed, bitter and acidic against his own lips. “Nope, I’m in the parking lot at the hospital. Saeran’s missing, he knocked me out and took off.” He swallowed, giving Jumin half a second to process that disaster before he dropped the exciting part of his confession. “Over an hour ago.”

He heard Jumin sigh, and heard rustling of fabric on the other end of the line. “Knocked out? Are you alright? Have you been in the snow for over an hour?”

“Yeah.” He glossed over the concern, unwilling to care about himself at the moment. “Hey, listen, have you heard from Nicky at all?”

The pause before Jumin next spoke was long enough and pointed enough that Shakespeare could have created an entirely new form of sonnet about how much it made Saeyoung squirm.

“No, not since we said goodbye at the theater. Why?”

“Okay, look, I’m gonna call the others. Can you meet us in the hospital parking lot? We need to find Saeran before…” _before he kills himself._ He knew what it was that his brother would be looking for, and the truth hurt him so much that he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. “Before something happens to him. Would you also try calling Nicky? She wasn’t answering, but maybe it’s my phone or something.”

“Yes, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Saeyoung?”

“Yo?”

“We _will_ find him.”

“Thanks, Jumin.” The click on the line told him that Jumin had disconnected, so he let the phone drop for a minute. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, trying to keep from bursting into tears. He tried calling Nicky once more, getting the voicemail again, and so he opened their message thread and sent her what he could think of to say.

**707: Saeran** **’s missing. I need you. Where are you? Why aren’t you answering?**

He almost added ‘please be okay’, but decided that he would refrain from jumping to conclusions. Maybe it was his phone. Maybe the snow had found a way to block the signal, just for her calls, but not to others’. Maybe it was just that Jumin’s phone was expensive enough to get a signal anywhere, and he wouldn’t be able to reach anyone else. That must be it. He tested the theory by dialing Zen, listening to it ring and half-hoping that he wouldn’t pick up.

He did. “Saeyoung, what the fuck? It’s one in the morning. Some of us have work tomorrow, you know.”

“Saeran’s missing, I need you and Jaehee to meet me at the hospital. Have you heard from Nicky?”

“Whoa, wait, hold on. That was a lot of things. What happened?”

“Saeran’s missing, I need you and Jaehee to get to the hospital right away so that we can start searching for him. Zen, I…” he clenched the phone in his hand, swallowing back the sob that threatened to rise out of his chest. “Nicky’s not answering her phone, have you heard from her since we left?”

“She texted me about a half an hour ago, just before we went to bed, saying that her final went well.”

So, she had made it to her final? And she had been up and texting within the last hour. Whatever had happened to her had happened since that time, then. “Okay, well, call her and then get over here.”

“Alright, we’re on our way. Just hold tight, okay?” he heard Zen lean over and start talking to Jaehee before the line was fully disconnected, his voice softer as he addressed his love. It made Saeyoung miss Nicky more acutely, but he tried to shove the feelings aside and focus on Saeran for the moment. 

He called Yoosung, and repeated another version of the conversation that he had just had with Zen and Jumin. Yoosung sounded a bit more flustered than the others, which probably meant Saeyoung was _definitely_ ruining his night in a much worse way. He would have so much apologizing to do later. So many pleasant evenings disrupted because he hadn’t wanted to disrupt them. He silently prayed that was the worst that would come from tonight. That his brother wasn’t already smashed beneath the wheels of a bus because he had been too naive to know he would need someone to help him get him home.

The last call he made was to Vanderwood, and he wished he didn’t have to. He wished that he could hide and pretend none of this was happening.

She answered on the first ring. “I knew I should have gone with you.”

“Wha…Wait, you already know?” he blinked in surprise, wrinkling his nose so that his glasses rose higher along the bridge.

“It’s one. You should be on the phone with the Disney Princess, congratulating her on her final or whatever, not calling me. So, either you fucked something up, or I’m going to punch you in the head for bothering me.”

“Saeran’s missing. Nicky isn’t answering her phone.”

“Damn, when you fuck up you go all out. Where are you?”

“Hospital parking lot.”

She sighed, beleaguered and yet still dependable whenever he needed her. “Fine, be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Mary.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you try to take off before I get there, I will find you and tazer you, just so you know.”

He rolled his eyes, even though she couldn’t see it. “Yes, _Mom_.”

“Fuck you.” He heard the laughter in her voice before she disconnected, although it didn’t do much to cheer him. He leaned against the car that he had hit with his head, noting the small dent he had left behind. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked up at the sky, watching as the clouds started to creep across their starlit backdrop.

How had he managed to lose the two people he loved most in the span of a single hour?

_Be okay. Both of you, just hang on, and be okay._


	99. You Actually Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the search party fans out.

He was already climbing out of bed as he disconnected the call, flipping over to Nicolette’s contact information and hitting the green button. He pressed the phone against his shoulder as he stood, adjusting and refastening his pants.

“Has something happened?” Aleks was sitting up, the hazy smile gone from his face as he furrowed his brow, all his sleepy love gone and replaced with concern.

“Saeyoung has a brother that isn’t well. He was supposed to bring him home from the hospital today, but it would seem that his brother knocked him out and ran off.” The call went to voicemail, Nicolette’s cheerful voice asking that he leave a message. He grabbed the phone, disconnecting and dialing again as he met Aleks gaze. “Nicolette is not answering our calls.”

Aleks mumbled something in Russian as Jumin walked around the side of the bed, looking for his discarded shirt. The call went to voicemail again, and he clicked the screen off and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, irritated that problems always seemed to arise in multiples whenever he turned around. He located his shirt and lifted it, shaking it out before throwing it around his shoulders. He started to button it, but there was a tremor in his fingers that made it difficult, his frustration mounting because he wanted to hurry, his heart in his throat because once again the people he cared about had discovered peril of some kind. Aleks stood from the bed, walking the short distance to stand in front of him, and he pushed Jumin’s hands out of the way and started fastening the shirt for him.

“Is there anything that I can do to help?” Aleks peered at him through his long lashes, his eyes flicking back and forth between his task and Jumin’s face. Jumin tipped his head down, stealing the other man’s lips for just a moment, drawing strength from their warmth.

“Yes. Come with me.”

Aleks smiled, finishing with the shirt and smoothing it into place before resting his palms against Jumin’s chest. “Of course.”

Despite the fact that he felt as though the world was trying to end - _again_ \- he still smirked at his boyfriend, wrapping his hands around his hips and pulling him forward. “Thank you.” He kissed him, letting their mouths meld together slowly, closing his eyes and reminding himself that he was in love, and that whatever trials would meet them when they arrived at the hospital would be all the more bearable because of that.

They separated, and Aleks wandered into the other room to collect their clothing from the strewn path they had left across the apartment. Jumin fished his phone out, trying one last time to reach Nicolette, but it rang and went to voicemail once more.

He sighed, then gave up on the venture, resolving to get dressed as quickly as possible so that they could get to the hospital and determine the best course of action. He hoped that his fears were unfounded, and that there would be a simple explanation for her sudden disappearance, as well as a simple resolution to locating Saeran.

He knew his hopes were in vain, because nothing having to do with the members of the RFA was ever simple, but he held on to the hope all the same. It was the best that he could do for the moment.

***

He was chasing the sky.

He kept his eyes on the prize, wide and unblinking whenever he could help it, the drugs in his veins helping him so that he couldn’t feel the stinging cold as it slapped against his eyeballs. He felt like he could put the stars in his own eyes if he could just get closer, if he could go higher and keep his gaze from wavering. Then he could have the unending shimmer of a million silver points of light to keep him from feeling the darkness. Then maybe he could be friends with all the other people that shined, even if it was only for the span of two or three stuttered heartbeats before the vacuum of space sucked his life from his lungs and let it leech into the dust that would make galaxies.

His feet scuffed through the snow. It caked to his flimsy shoes and the bottom of his ill-fitting pants. They must have given him some of Saeyoung’s clothes to wear when they had dressed him like a broken doll. Everything was too loose, too baggy on his gangly frame. The lesser twin in deed and stature, a poor replica made from the parts of his brother that had been unnecessary. Did the sky know that he was nothing more than a shadow? Did the stars look upon his wasted image and long for the brother that was more? Saeran had always been a shell. He had always been empty, always searching for a way to fill himself so that he could keep the pain out, keep the violence at bay. Searching for a place he could retreat to when those around him would dole out pain in lieu of kindness. People spoke of hope, of love, of paradise. These things were nothing more than legends to him, myths that held no more substance than the breath that carried the words that told them.

He was cold, from the air and the years, frigid and unable to thaw. The streets did not know him, did not see him, did not mind his passing as he searched for wings. The ice cradled him, swaddled in glittering fragments that spun like glass, flying in front of his feet as Nicky had ducked and screamed. The world was asleep and unmoving, like the mint-eyed man and the starlit girl full of wine and the nurse with the sneer and his brother who had gentle fingers and he didn’t know _why_ his hands hadn’t hurt when everything else had. Why had his brother sat in the hall, gaze full of hope, day after day? Why did he endure the hate, the rage, the words of steel and ice? Why had Nicky come to see him, murmuring nonsense that sounded so sweet but could never be true? Why was it when she smiled he felt flickers of things like hope stir in his chest, sputtering against the stormy blizzard that kept him still and dead?

These mysteries were left for mortals, and so he pushed them from his mind. They could unravel them on their own time, following the threads to find their own answers. He would not. He would fly. He would become the sky, and watch them from above, uncaring about the pain and the lies and the unanswered queries any longer. He was far too tired to find truth. He was far too tired to live. Not without the stars, not without wings to carry him up to their level, where perhaps he could finally understand what made them glow. That was the only resolution that he sought.

He found a ladder, a stairway to heaven, extending to the sky. The bars were gleaming silver, painted in moonlight and calling his name as the wind thrummed against their brilliance. He climbed, fingers wrapping around the bars, carrying him aloft. His wings were waiting. He could feel the feathers unfurling from his back. He would climb to the sky, climb to the stars, climb to the limitless beyond that was his for the taking, and from that peak, from that glistening apex that was made only for him…

From that point he would soar, and never have pain again.

***

It took no more than fifteen minutes for everyone to arrive, and Saeyoung didn’t want to think about the logistics of how all of them had gotten to the hospital so quickly. Still, the waiting had chafed at him, and he had stepped across the parking lot more than once, intent on starting the search on his own. He had stopped short each time because it wasn’t just Saeran that he was worried about anymore, the horrible silence from his phone letting him know that Nicky was either not talking to him, or not able to talk to him, and nothing that could result in those outcomes was good.

He was relieved when everyone that he had called shuffled across the snow laden parking lot, Anna and Aleks tagging along with their respective dates. He was glad that they were there, too.

“Have you heard from Nicolette?” Jumin sounded strained as he puffed out the question, all of them coming to stand in a loose circle together near the spot where he had lain comatose for over an hour. Saeyoung shook his head, and everyone present exchanged glances, a complete circle of ‘no’ that made his heart sink to the bottom of his feet.

Vanderwood crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the sky. “Okay, when was the last we heard from her?”

“I got a text at about one that she had finished her final. I’d asked her to let me know.” Zen held up his phone, and they all looked at the screen to see the evidence for themselves.

**Nicolette: I passed!!! Professor Henrietti was a bit of a downer and thinks I** **’m too emotional when I sing, but everyone else gave me very high marks and said they were impressed with my progress.**

**ZEN: Ha!! I never doubted you. ;)**

**ZEN: You want me to come kick Henrietti in the shins? I can wear my old biking boots and do some decent damage.**

**Nicolette: lol thanks for the offer, but the only thing I want to do is go home and sleeeeeeep**

**ZEN: That sounds like a good plan.**

**ZEN: Jaehee is glaring at me because she** **’d like to do the same, so I should hit the hay.**

**ZEN: Goodnight beautiful~**

**Nicolette: Night Zenny! Give Jaehee my love <3**

Nothing in the message indicated that anything was amiss. Based on what she had said, she should have been going straight home, but Saeyoung had a feeling she hadn’t gotten that far.

“Do you think something happened to her phone?” Yoosung shivered, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking at the others.

“Tch. Not with her luck.” Vanderwood shook her head. “She drove your crippled ass to the hospital, right?”

Saeyoung nodded, ignoring the distasteful moniker. “Yes, she dropped me off and then headed off to take her final.”

“Alright, then someone needs to go to the campus and see if the car is still there.” She pulled at the lining of her gloves, drawing them tight over her fingers.

“I know the campus well, and I think I know where she took her final. I can go and search for Nicky.” Aleks flashed them a nervous smile, and Saeyoung wanted to hug him for the second time that evening.

“I’ll go with you.” Jumin took his boyfriend’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Saeyoung, leave Nicolette to us, and the rest of you can search for Saeran.”

He swallowed. He wanted to say no. He wanted to divide himself in half and look for both of them. He wanted to ignore his stubborn brother and go out to find the love of his life and save her from whatever trouble had stumbled into her path this time. He wanted Saeran to be by his side, worrying for her as much as they all were, and not out there trying to kill himself because of how much he hated Saeyoung. If anything happened to Nicky because he couldn’t go looking for her, he would never forgive himself. It would be his fault, because he had left his brother all those years ago when he never should have, believing a pretty story without ever trying to make sure it was true.

“Go, and let me know as soon as you find anything out.” He had to grind out the words through teeth that had clenched themselves together, but Jumin and Aleks didn’t waste any time, rushing back to the black town car that they had arrived in. Saeyoung watched them go, sending his heart with them in the hopes that they would be able to take it to Nicky.

Vanderwood cleared her throat. “Alright, you four fan out and follow the footprints here that lead to the south.” She pointed at Zen, Jaehee, Yoosung, and Anna. “If you come across a possible split, then separate into smaller groups, but don’t search alone. He’s stronger than he looks.”

They nodded, marching off to follow her directions and clapping him on the back as they went, silently offering support with contact because there weren’t any words to make this situation better. He stared at them as they went, shoving his good hand in his pocket, his fingers brushing against his quiet phone. His shoulder was screaming at him, but he didn’t dare take any of the painkillers the doctors had given him. He needed a clear head until his brother was safe, so he would have to suffer through the pain until then.

“We headed east?” he looked at Vanderwood, although he knew her answer before she said a word.

She looked up, scanning the horizon, her eyes flitting over the mass of clouds that was almost overhead. “Yeah. I’m betting that he’s running away from the storm clouds, so that he can see the sky.”

“I thought as much.”

“Come on, stop moping and start walking. I’m not losing anybody else.” She started trudging through the snow towards the street closest to the open sky, a set of prints in front of her that might have been Saeran’s or might have belonged so somebody else that had left the hospital before them. _Not losing anybody else?_ He knew that she was talking about Klein, and he was surprised that she lumped Saeran in the same category, even if that category wasn’t anything more than ‘people she didn’t want to see dead’.

“You actually care?”

She turned her head so that he could see her roll her eyes. “Don’t be stupid.”

“You did punch him in the head.” He chuckled as he rushed to follow her, catching up so that they were walking side by side. Both alternated between looking at the tracks on the ground and up, towards the abandoned streets, trying to determine the most likely direction the runaway twin could have gone.

“I _thought_ I was punching you.”

He snorted out another laugh. “That’s not really better.”

“I know.” She was frowning, her eyes full of shadows, and he knew that she was thinking of Klein. She always got that look on her face when their old friend crossed her mind. “He would have been pissed at me, you know?”

That wasn’t what he had expected her to say. “Why?”

“Look, half the reason that he used to come up with all those ridiculous plans was to get you out. You were always too young for that life, and you’d been in it longer than either of us. We promised each other that we would take care of you, no matter what. When he died, I lost sight of that. I let my misery make me forgot what made me love his dumb ass in the first place. He _cared,_ way too much for his own good.” She sighed, irritably adjusting her jacket. “Fuck, I guess I always cared too, even though I didn’t want to. So yes, I want to find Twitch, and yes, I want him to get better and stop being so fucking gloomy. He deserves it. You deserve it. We all deserve a few years of fucking peace before it inevitably falls apart again.” She threw her hands up in the air, then stomped ahead a couple of steps to glare around the corner.

“Gee, when you put it like that everything just seems so hopeful.” He smirked, and even though he was being sarcastic, her words had made him feel better. He wasn’t in this alone. He wasn’t the only one rooting for Saeran to get better. That had to mean something, that had to make a difference. They had accomplished so much together, as a group, and saving Saeran would not be the thing that broke them. He had the RFA, too, but even if it was just him and Vanderwood, they had faced the world that way before. If she had his back, there was more hope than he had realized. It was true that he had to bear the brunt of the weight, but he was ready for it. If he could just keep reminding himself that he had everyone’s support, then he would be able to do anything.

He only hoped that he wasn’t already too late.


	100. Precious Optimism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the search for Saeran continues from multiple perspectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I might have drizzled some foreshadowing into this that has absolutely nothing to do with what's left of this story. *quietly planning other things* :D

He was scared.

Not just because Nicky wasn’t answering her phone, although that would have been reason enough. Yoosung was scared to be out in the cold, hunting in the dark for someone that was at least twice as dangerous as Rika had ever been. His skin still crawled sometimes when he thought about her fingernails dragging down his arm, her teeth sinking into his fingers, her growls of frustration making her seem more animal than woman, no longer the outgoing planner that he had always thought the ultimate example of compassion. Rika had been a tempest when she didn’t get her way, and she had been docile compared to Saeran and his own outbursts. Saeran was lost, though, and needed to be shown a better way, and Yoosung wasn’t about to let Saeyoung down after he had asked them to help. Still, he secretly hoped that they were not the ones to find him. He felt guilty about it, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so emotionally drained from taking care of Rika, and he had only had a few days to recover. He wasn’t ready to face another unstable patient, he wasn’t strong enough to wrestle someone into submission to try and make them want to be well. He just wasn’t enough at all. 

He was going to make a terrible psychologist.

He sighed, looking at the trail of footprints dotting ahead of them in the snow. They forked a few feet from the spot they were trudging past now, and he knew that their party would have to divide. He glanced at Anna, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold, her gloved hands clasped in front of her chest as she squinted at the area around them. This direction had led them into a park, full of rolling mounds of snow that piled against the trunks of the trees. The moonlight mingled with the lights coming from the street lamps, so that everything was bathed in silver and gold, the shadows in between a deep navy. On any other night, and under any other circumstances, he might have found the walk romantic, but he was too worried to enjoy anything right now. From the look on her face, Anna felt the same.

He hadn’t asked her to come with him, but when she had offered he couldn’t bring himself to say no. In truth, he had wanted her by his side very badly, but he was still warring over the idea of feeling selfish whenever he needed to lean on her. He wanted that support, and sometimes needed it, but he was sure that someday it might be too much. Especially on nights like this, where the emergencies that kept cropping up in his life interrupted the first night that she had been sleeping over.

Thinking about it made him blush again, and he felt ridiculous that it was even crossing his mind at a time like this. It was hard not to think about how she had looked and felt, though. She was perfect. She was everything that he had ever wanted to find, and getting to show her that with more than his stuttered words had meant more to him than he expected. Saeyoung always made it seem like such a dirty thing, something to be laughed about or bragged about, and Zen acted like the only person in the world that was allowed to have sex was himself. Admittedly, Yoosung didn’t have a lot of experience on the matter, but whenever he was with Anna, even before tonight, he felt like what they had was unexpected and special. Was it always supposed to feel so…sweet? Was it supposed to make his heart swell with love that he couldn’t contain, a cosmic ache flowing through him that made him hold her closer and kiss her harder?

He loved Anna. So much. He hoped that he had been able to convey it earlier, before Saeyoung had called. _She_ had finished before their interruption, at least, so he couldn’t feel too self-conscious about stopping in the middle. It wasn’t as though it was for a bad reason, either. Helping out in this kind of emergency was what the RFA was supposed to be for. Well, that was what it was for now, anyways, since Nicky had shown them all how to be a family. He was glad that Saeyoung had contacted them about it, instead of charging off in the middle of the night alone, like he might have before. He hated to think what else could have happened.

He felt a gloved hand wrap around his own, and he looked to see Anna smiling up at him, her eyes sparkling beneath the midnight sky. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…worried.” He shrugged, and she nodded and bumped her shoulder against his.

“Don’t worry too much. I have a feeling that everything will be okay.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, feeling warmth blossom from his lips. “Well, if you think so, then it must be true.”

“Hey, Yoosung, the trail splits.” Zen was peering at them from a few feet across the park, his shoulders hunched into his jacket as Jaehee looked across a darkened trail, half-hidden by the barren trees. “You good to follow it on your own?” he looked at the sceptically, and Yoosung was both grateful that he cared and irritated that he thought they were incapable.

“Yeah, we’ll go this way.” He jerked his head to the set of prints leading to the left, and Zen nodded, following Jaehee as she was already traipsing to the right. Yoosung looked up at the sky, seeing billowing clouds rolling over them. Errant flakes of snow were starting to flutter over their heads, and he knew that it would be coming down in thick bursts pretty soon. They would lose the trails, and then they might never be able to find Saeran.

As much as he didn’t want to be the one to find him, that didn’t mean that he didn’t want him to be found. He couldn’t imagine what that would do to Saeyoung, not to mention Nicky. He wanted everything to work out. He wanted Saeran to get better, and recover from what Rika had done to him, to be someone that could laugh and smile with the rest of them. He wanted to build a life with Anna, and the rest of the RFA, and he wanted terrible things to stop happening to all of them. Was that a wish that could ever come true? Would they ever be free of dangerous situations? There were still a lot of unanswered questions hanging over their heads, and he was worried that leaving them that way might come back to haunt them.

Tonight, however, there were more important things to worry about. He gripped Anna’s hand, pulling her closer. “Thank you for coming with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She ducked her head, blushing and smiling, bashful even though he had said much the same a hundred times before by this point. “I’m just happy that I could help.” She kicked a tuft of snow out of the way, looking up at the quiet park in front of them.

He didn’t let go of her hand as they walked on, searching for the lost twin of the guy that Yoosung had always considered one of his best friends. He stopped listening to the fearful voice in his head, the one that promised that Nicky was in danger and that Saeran was going to hurt someone in his frenzy. Instead, he turned to the hope that he felt walking side by side with his girlfriend, and the strength that it gave him to be near her. He would help find Saeran, and he would work harder to help him get better. He would give his best to make sure that all of them, himself and Anna included, got the happy future they each deserved.

Even if it took everything he had, because he knew nobody else that he loved would give anything less if the roles were reversed.

***

Her mind whirled with a lot of scenarios that were not pleasant to consider. Jaehee was practical, in that way, although more often than not it made her feel morose. Still, as they walked through the deserted park, she couldn’t help but think through their predicament and weigh all the possible outcomes.

First there was Saeran. A sick boy who had known nothing but pain since he was born. She knew, based on reading the reports from the hospital, that he was suicidal. He had been gone for almost two hours by this point, and he could have found a number of ways to achieve his goal. It was very possible that the boy they were looking for was already nothing more than a corpse, and all they would be able to do would be bring the news to his brother. What would happen when Saeyoung heard? Would he blame himself, as he often did for things beyond his control? Would he give in to the despair to follow his brother, leaving Nicky behind? Jaehee knew that, were Nicky to lose Saeyoung, she would be inconsolable. She could relate. More so than she ever would have guessed, had she been pressed with the question a few months ago. If something were to happen to Zen, though, she was not sure that she could handle it. Not after everything that they had been through together, and not after finally discovering their feelings for one another.

Which was, of course, thanks to Nicky. If it weren’t for her, Jaehee might not have realized that Zen giving attention to another woman made her jealous, even if she had never been able to resent Nicky for it in return. If it weren’t for Nicky’s impeccable perception, Zen never would have been pushed to ask her out. She couldn’t imagine a world where those things hadn’t happened, yet they had come dangerously close multiple times. It was ridiculous to sit and tally the instances where Nicky, or Saeyoung, or anyone around them could have been killed. Time and again, they had danced with death, and each time the scythe had managed to miss. They had made it through everything, against all odds, and yet still found themselves facing crisis after crisis.

One of which was the missing Choi brother, the other of which was the missing party planner. Occurring at the same time, because they were the lottery winners of misfortune.

There were so many uncertainties surrounding Nicky and her failure to answer a single call or text, which made it hard for Jaehee to surmise what could have happened. It could all be explained by some accident to her phone, but she had a feeling that Nicky would have found a way to reach them some other way, if that were the case. She had checked the chatroom several times, but Nicky had not appeared or logged on since well before she had gone to her final. So Jaehee couldn’t help but feel that it was more than a technical difficulty. Something was happening, or had happened, to Nicky, and she desperately hoped that Jumin and Aleks could put a stop to it.

Nicky and Saeran. The two most important people in Saeyoung’s life, thrust into uncertainty at once. It didn’t seem fair. It seemed as though the world was punishing them for sins that she was sure they could not have committed. Saeyoung’s failure at the chastity of Catholicism aside, a failure she _certainly_ could not judge him for, he was one of the kindest people that she had ever known. He hid it behind a lot of strange jokes and bluster, but she had always taken note of the kind things that he had done for the others. Bringing up Jumin’s cat to give him an opportunity to talk about her, even if it had always resulted in bickering. Supporting Zen’s work by running at least three fan blogs that she had been able to trace, with the possibility of a twitter account as well. He had also been kind enough to forgive Jumin for everything that had happened between him and Nicky, and had always gently supported Yoosung in whatever strange clubs he had been trying each week.

She sighed, knowing that Saeyoung deserved a break, and the world was reticent to give him one. She had thought they were through the worst of things, but it seemed that there was always more still to overcome. Work was never done, in or out of the office, and she wondered how long it would be before they were all too weary to go on.

***

Zen jogged ahead a few steps so that he could wrap his arm around Jaehee, who was looking more despondent with every foot forward. She jumped when he reached her, but eased into his lopsided embrace quickly enough when she realized it was him. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, but it proved awkward to walk that way, so stood up straighter, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“You look worried.” He wanted to stop, to halt their progress and talk to her until he could get her to smile again, but of course that would be letting everyone down. He’d be being a terrific boyfriend, but a terrible brother.

Her glasses reflected the moonlight, but he could still see the warm brown eyes beneath them, full of gratitude because he cared about how she felt. “I _am_ worried. I just…should we always expect these kinds of things to keep happening?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, and she turned an appraising eye on him, frowning. “I mean, maybe that’s the price we have to pay for the happiness we get around it. Or maybe these things will keep happening until we tie up all the loose ends.”

“That isn’t very optimistic.” She huffed out an irritated breath, the warmth skirting the air like smoke. God, he wanted a smoke. He was so stressed he was ready to just open a pack of cigarettes and eat them, right then and there, although he knew that wherever Nicky was she would probably start composing an angry text to him immediately, her Zen’s-in-trouble-senses tingling. Then again, if that was the result, maybe he should do it after all. At least then they would be able to find her.

“Sorry, beautiful. I’m not always a silver lining kind of guy.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I suppose not.”

He glanced up at the sky as they walked, the clouds getting thicker by the minute. He caught glimpses of the stars as they tried their best to shine through the gloom, the world’s greatest optimists that glittered in the deepest dark. “Optimism is kind of _her_ thing, now, anyways.”

Nicky. The bright girl who never saw her own light. She had guided them all through shadows that Zen could not have even fathomed a few short weeks ago, and then she had somehow still found it in herself to be the bigger person. They needed her here tonight, telling them what they should do with Saeran when they found him. She would know. She always knew the best way to help people. Zen needed that help, because what he really wanted to do was punch the little runt in the side of his head for continuing to cause so much trouble. Couldn’t he see that things could be better now? Couldn’t he tell that there were people waiting to protect him? Zen was fully prepared to stick up for him just as he was the rest of the RFA, and he wouldn’t need a fistful of drugs and lies to do it.

_Rika_ …why did it have to be this way? Why were they still repairing cracks that she had caused? When he had met her, and V, he had thought he’d finally found a place to belong. The only downside had been Jumin, stuck up and robotic every time they got together. He was sure that it would have been Jumin to cause them all trouble, to hurt the people around them. It was humbling to think that he had the whole thing backwards from the start. Rika and V had hid things, had lied, had manipulated them into being people that were just beholden enough to them to never see the truth. That bullshit had hurt Jumin worst of all, and the guy he thought was a robot had turned out to be one of his best friends. What the hell had happened? How had his world tumbled into chaos, then rolled back out again as something…better?

He looked at Jaehee, and smiled quietly to himself. Yes, better. Definitely better. He was glad that he was friends with Jumin, glad that he was around for the idiot to blush and get stupid grins on his face because of a Russian piano player. He was glad that he got to see Yoosung _finally_ get that girlfriend he had always wanted, and to see him grow into a focused, responsible adult. He was glad that Saeyoung acted like a love-struck teenager, and that he couldn’t stop talking about being with Nicky. He was glad that Nicky had brought them all together, meshed them into a group of people that not only got along, but cared about each other in a way that Zen couldn’t even explain. It was better than family, because the family he had always known never cared. It was better than camaraderie, because the people in his old gang didn’t have the stones to have each other’s backs like this. The RFA loved each other, and they were growing. Anna, Aleks, Saeran, Vanderwood. All of them were people he hadn’t known back in October, when all of this had started, but now they were a part of his world. Part of it in a way that he wasn’t willing to give them up. Even if Saeran was too beaten to know the difference between a fist and a hand up.

There were so many things out there that could still cause them problems, but he would stand up and take a swing at all of them to protect what Nicky had helped them build. If not for his own sake, then for hers, because she loved them all more than any of them deserved. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, sending out a little prayer of luck for Jumin and Aleks. He hoped that whatever was happening, they would put a stop to it, and save her from anything that would crack that precious optimism that she carried in her heart.

He pulled Jaehee close, kissing her cheek before letting her go, both agreeing without saying anything that they should renew their efforts. He trusted Jumin, and he trusted Aleks, so he needed to stop worrying about Nicky and focus on the task at hand. He would find Saeran, and bring him back safely, and he would devote a lot more of his energy to making sure the kid knew that he had more than one brother in this stupid, selfish world.


	101. Living for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vanderwood feelings happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! 
> 
> Sorry for that unexpected hiatus. I went like 30 hours without sleep on Thursday night, then crashed and burned the minute I got off work on Friday, then was very busy planning a DnD session on Saturday (that was cancelled at the very last minute so RIP my free time), and then on Sunday my body was purging 2016's toxins and I was drunk on cold meds and in a cold-induced coma. 
> 
> Hence the late chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, I tried to make it a good one to come back to, so hopefully everyone wanted some Vanderwood feelings because she completely took this part over and demanded to be extra.

Looking for a person on the run was like slipping on an old, worn glove. One that she had donned so many times that her fingerprints had been meshed into the leather, soft markings left behind to remind the world of her passage. She knew that if the glove were real it would feel familiar, and it would smell like the past, like memories so deeply ingrained in her mind that they were a part of her, like her beating heart was a part of her. Never like home, though. The hunt, the cold pressing into her lungs as her eyes scanned every corner. The electrified alertness that always came when she was chasing a happy ending that may or may not come true. These things smelled like truth, but it was not like passing through the unfamiliar to return home. Home smelled of other things. Home smelled of cardamom and coffee, hints of nutmeg above the light wisps of cream. That was how he took his cups every morning, and the scents had clung to his shirt for hours, fading into the musk of his sweat as the day spiraled into the night. Home wasn’t an imaginary glove, but a kiss on the side of her neck as he skipped past her, a brush of his fingers across the back of her hands as he passed along a gun. She had found so much in this world that she hadn’t expected, but it didn’t change the fact that Klein would always be home, and she could never go there again.

Others could go home, though, and that was what she was doing stomping around the streets in the middle of the night. To bring one of her boys home. Because Twitch had a home waiting for him, he was just too beaten to see it. He just needed a few dozen people to show him the way, repeatedly and forcefully. That was what she had lived for, though, wasn’t it? She took all that extra time, all the time that should have belonged to Klein. It should have been his reward for being _good_ in the face of a world that was overwhelmingly awful, but he had burned and she had inherited all of the minutes and days and months that she hadn’t earned. What the fuck was the point if she couldn’t use it to help these boys find the happiness she could never have?

“ _It’s bullshit. We’re idiots for even thinking about it.” She didn’t like the unease that settled in her chest. She didn’t like the frustration she felt when once again their information had led them to a dead end. She didn’t like seeing the disappointment on Klein’s face as he realized they were back to square one, again. “Maybe we should stop. Maybe we should just enjoy what we have already, and stop asking for more.” She let her head fall back as she looked up at the sky, her arms supporting her weight to keep her upright as half her back pressed into the grass beneath it. She was going to have green stains on the top of her ass, but she didn’t care. _

_He sat up, his hair pouring over his bare shoulder like soft liquid. Black ink on tanned canvas, poetry written in movement and grace. Strands of it clung to his face, still sticky from the faint sheen of sweat, his skin glowing with something indefinable that stole her breath from her lungs and tossed it to the stars. How could one man be so beautiful? How could one person take her heart and break it just as his smile mended it, all in one? Destruction and salvation in a never ending cycle that propelled itself forward, pushing them to the brink of her expectations and then lifting them air born, soaring to heights she had never wanted to know about because they were supposed to be out of reach. Foolish, beautiful man._

_Her foolish, beautiful man started frowning at her, his brows meeting above the bridge of his nose. “What we have?”_

_He said it like he was really confused. Like he hadn’t just confessed his undying love for her while unraveling inside of her. Like he didn’t know they were stealing happiness behind the back of an agency that wanted them to have nothing of its kind. He asked the question like he meant it, and she knew he was going to make her spell it out._

“ _Us. The way we feel. I know you think we should have more, but maybe this is all we get. Maybe if we keep asking for better we’ll end up with nothing.”_

_His eyes softened, his lip twitching as his gaze filled with tears that wouldn’t fall because he had better control than that. He sat up, kissing her shoulder before speaking, so that his words were pressed against her skin.“What about Seven? What does he get?”_

_She bit her lip, turning away from him because she didn’t want him to see the guilt that would be flitting through her eyes. That was always the stalling point. Yes, they could love each other under the stars in between missions, they could steal draughts of joy even under the ever watchful eye of their boss. Seven could not. Seven, the kid who had been here before either of them had started and deserved it the least. The kid whom Klein had decided belonged to them, and was therefore their responsibility._

_Damn him and his ineffable optimism, but he had her feeling the same. He had her feeling like all those murmured promises of a house with a picket fence and kids gathered from orphanages were not impossible. He had her feeling like Seven was just the first, and once they saved him they could save so many more, together. Always together. She had to ask for more, always, because they needed to give it to Seven._

_In her experience, asking for more was always what led to a brisk and violent end. Was that where their altruism would land them? Had she spent her whole life fighting only to see greed take what little she had earned?_

_It wasn’t fair. She was always asking for more for others. Why? The world had never given her enough to share, so why did she fight so hard to save those around her? Why couldn’t she be selfish, just this once?_

“ _Mary. Don’t hide from me.” He lifted his hand, running it along her jaw before turning her head. She could feel tears burning in the back of her eyes, and she was furious over them._

“ _I’m tired of my life always being about somebody else. When is it about me?”_

“ _Always. Never.” He grabbed her chin, pulling her down until their lips met, flooding her with meaning that left her defenseless. He let her go, eyes flicking open to stare into her own, close enough that she could taste his breath as he continued to speak. “I lived for myself once. It was all I did for years, thinking that I could muscle my way out of hell, that true meaning lay just beyond my hard work. It was lonely. Every victory was hollow. I thought I felt alive on the ice, but it was a lie. I didn’t feel alive until I started living for you.”_

“ _Klein, I don’t -” he kissed her again, swallowing her protest, her words nothing more than fuel to the fire that he burned for them both. She knew that he meant it, and she wanted to shake him, to yell at him until he realized that he was so much better than her, that she wasn’t worthy of being that important to him. She couldn’t bring herself to say it, because she loved him too much to let him go. She was a wretched, selfish bitch._

“ _Shh. Listen, who we are is who we live for. We are made up of the people that will remember us when we’re gone. When there’s nothing left but memories, its the people that carry them that are the most important.” His tone was fervent, desperate, his heart still reaching for a future where they existed. A future where their past and present wasn’t owned by a spy network that used them like tools. A future where they could be remembered at all._

“ _We’re not supposed to be remembered, my love.” She kissed him again, and though she argued, she knew he had already won. It didn’t matter if she believed if it could happen. The only thing that mattered was that he did, and she would fight for his beliefs until the world took away her last will. “But I promise I’ll never forget you.”_

_His tears told her that he had needed that. He needed to know that someone would hold his candle when his light was snuffed out. She didn’t tell him that she would never let him go first. She didn’t tell him that if he left before her she would be so consumed with darkness that it wouldn’t matter what she remembered. That part didn’t matter, didn’t need to be told. All that mattered was that he was afraid of the lonely oblivion that threatened them every day that they remained in the agency, and if she could ease that with pretty words then she would. It was the least that she could do._

“ _We have to get out. One of us, some of us, all of us. I won’t accept that this is all we get. There’s a reason we were all brought together, and I won’t accept that it’s to be trapped in this agency until we disappear. Please, promise me you’ll never stop fighting that fate.”_

“ _I promise.”_

_Damn him, she meant it, too._

She had neglected that promise after he had died. She had decided that fate could fuck right off, and the only thing that mattered was staying alive. She had told herself, originally, that it was in defiance of her world. If it wanted her dead, or miserable, then she would live just to piss off whatever power that be pulled the strings, and she would live in indifference. She had always known, in the back of her mind, that the real reason she lived was because she was carrying memories that had to survive. She had promised she wouldn’t forget him, and until she could be sure his story was told, until she could be sure that his legacy had a _purpose,_ until that time she wasn’t allowed to give in. She wasn’t allowed to die, because if she did then he might be forgotten, and everything they had worked for might be lost, and that was so much worse than just losing him. She would not let him die in vain.

Saeyoung strolled three paces ahead of her, his free hand shoved in his pocket, his shoulders hunched as much as they could be with one of his arms strapped in the sling. She could tell by the tension in the back of his neck that he was in pain. He’d been out of his surgery long enough by now that whatever anesthetic they would have used to cut him open would have worn off, and she would bet that he had been stubborn enough to forego medicine in favor of a clear head, since Twitch would have taken priority. Stubborn.

She wondered if he realized just how many mannerisms he had picked up from Klein. The laughter that hid the truth. The kindness that he buried beneath bluster. A penchant for poetry in the face of overwhelming bad luck and adversity. The urge to sacrifice himself for those around him. Some of that had been there before they had met Klein, but Saeyoung’s personality hadn’t come into its own until Klein had coaxed it out of him. She had watched him go from the carefree womanizer and joker to a bitter, jaded agent, then back to something that was in constant flux between. Maybe that was part of why she could hardly look at him after Klein had died. It was like he had planted one of his stupid seeds inside Saeyoung’s head, and no matter how she tried to ignore it, every time he breathed she was forced to watch it grow.

Now it was close to blooming. Saeyoung had found people that he could live for, and they in turn would live for him. There were so many people that would carry his candle when he was gone. It was almost done, then. If Saeyoung was a seed that Klein had planted, then his legacy was almost fully grown.

Finding Twitch and saving his dumb ass wouldn’t be the final step. She wished it were that simple, but she knew better. These kids were so wrapped up in their own lives that they forgot about the people that had nearly engineered their deaths. From their perspective the evil had been vanquished, locked away in a prison cell where it would rot. She knew better, though. Evil waited, evil slept and gathered strength. Goldi wasn’t going to go quietly into that good night. She was harmless now, but it wouldn’t be long before that no longer remained true. Once Vanderwood got rid of that problem, though, once she ensured the agency couldn’t harm a single hair on Saeyoung or Saeran’s orange heads, then maybe she could rest.

Then maybe she could go home.

The trail that they were following split on the street corner ahead of them. It was impossible to tell if they were following the right set of footprints, but she had a hunch that the scared little runt would have gone this way. Now it seemed that their options had expanded, and they would have to make a choice. Pick a path, or split up.

She had told everyone else that they weren’t to travel alone, but the rules were different between her and Saeyoung. They had searched for people before, they had been trained to take down people twice their size. She knew that Saeyoung wouldn’t let the fact that his arm was in a sling keep him from insisting that he was fully capable. She also wasn’t stupid enough to argue with him when his brother was on the line and he was probably half out of his mind thinking about Nicky and whatever the fuck had waylaid her. She wouldn’t have been surprised to receive a call saying that Saeran had found her and they had run out for ice cream, that the Disney Princess had healed all his wounds with sugar and a smile. Of course, her campus was in the opposite direction, and it was doubtful that she had made it this far across town from the time she had texted Zen. The disasters were not colliding tonight, just dissolving into chaos in tandem, like a chord in a song.

Saeyoung stopped, staring at the ground, at the point of the split. He was frowning at it, and she could see him steeling himself for an argument. He expected her to insist they choose and stick together. He was wrong.

“We should split up.” She looked up and down the road, scanning the line of the different pathways. “You go left, I’ll go right. First one to find him texts the other immediately, before engagement.”

Saeyoung nodded, looking surprised and relieved all in one. “Sounds good.” He turned, shuffling down the street to the left, carefully stepping around the trail.

She spun on her heel and moved along the path to the right, counting her steps carefully. When she was sure she had gone enough distance that he wouldn’t be able to see the trail she was supposed to be following, she pivoted and ducked around the corner of a building. She looked at the prints in the snow. These ones were too big, and they didn’t have the right rhythm. Twitch would be in a set of shoes that belonged to his brother, and she knew that his feet were about a size off from Saeyoung’s, which would mean his steps would be off kilter in the borrowed footwear. Saeran had definitely not left the trail heading to the right.

They both knew it, too, which was why Saeyoung hadn’t protested when she had picked the directions for them.

She peered around the corner, narrowing her eyes as she watched Saeyoung pass beneath the shadows of the tall buildings all around them. She waited until he was almost out of sight before creeping out of the shelter of the high rise and darting up the road to the next hiding place. She did this several times, tailing him as far back as she could manage without being seen.

She knew he would never have let her come with him, but she wasn’t stupid enough to let him run off and do this by himself, especially not injured and in pain. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance on the sun that he was actually going to text her when he found his brother, either. It was her job to make sure both her boys got through this alive, and she would do whatever it took to ensure their safety. Even if that meant pretending to let them resolve their issues by themselves while she lurked out of sight with a tazer.

Klein would have been so smug about the way she was mothering them, and if he were still alive it would have pissed her off. Since he was dead, and all that she could do was imagine his irksome smile and dramatic wink, she couldn’t bring herself to get angry. All she could do was watch Saeyoung walking far ahead of her, and miss the man that had promised to be by her side.

 


	102. Footprints That Told a Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jumin and Aleks arrive on campus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, but I'm sick still so please have mercy. 
> 
> lol I will do my very, very best to make sure tomorrow's chapter is not late though. ;)

The clouds had engulfed the sky above them, and as they pulled into the parking lot snow had started to drift down from the billowing blackness above them. It was like driving through a snow globe, the headlights hitting the bits of frozen water so that they glittered like fallen stars, suspended in the tumult of a shaken world. It would have been beautiful, and he would have liked to spend the time marveling at the solitude of the night while curled in his boyfriend’s arms, but they had other matters to attend to. He pulled the car into an empty space, killing the lights and the engine, squinting through the windshield to look across the lot. It looked abandoned, lacking any sign of recent passage, but the snow was filling the air with white, a thin layer of mist hovering around them, and so it was difficult to see.

Aleks grabbed his hand, brushing his thumb along his knuckles. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

“You don’t really believe that.” Jumin smiled as he spoke, his voice carrying nothing but gratitude for the moral support, lessening the gravity of his words. Aleks grinned in response, shaking his head.

“No, but it is what you say in these moments.” Aleks lifted their hands and kissed the back of Jumin’s, his lips warm and kind. “Come, let’s go find our lost student.”

The car filled with the sound of seat belts being unfastened, the pair of them clicking them open and stepping out in tandem. Outside the wind had picked up and whistled across the campus, whipping up loose tufts of snow and tossing them into the air. He felt droplets of water stick to his hair and the side of his face, so he huddled deeper into his scarf and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. They made their way across the lot, feet sticking to the frosted ground, and it only took five steps before his heart sank lower in his chest.

It was the only other car that was parked there, and Jumin didn’t have to see it clearly to know that it was one of Saeyoung’s. Nobody else could pick such garish colors for something as utilitarian as a vehicle. It was the bright blue automatic that Nicolette favored, the same one that she used to get around town when her errands made the use of public transit undesirable. He had not put it into conscious thought, but his hopes had rested on the idea that they would arrive and find the car gone, even though his practical sensibilities told him otherwise. He had wanted it to be a simple misunderstanding. Just this once.

Aleks slipped an arm around his waist, his body radiating heat as though Russians were made of embers that never faded. “She has not left. This could be good news. Perhaps she went back in to practice.”

“You don’t believe that, either.”

“No. But I would be happy if _you_ did.” His eyes were filled with worry as they flitted over Jumin’s face, and he could tell that it was sincere.

Jumin started striding forward, pulling his boyfriend along with him as they remained latched together. “I wouldn’t want you to worry alone.”

Aleks smiled, but didn’t speak further, and they lapsed into silence as they headed towards the snow-laden walkways. The campus was nicer than Jumin had expected, though after Nicolette’s descriptions he had not pictured much beyond acres of hostile students. He had always assumed that his first time seeing it in person would be to attend one of her recitals. He would have brought her flowers. He was unsure if that was the proper protocol for such affairs, but if she were to perform then it would only feel right for him to bring something along to show his gratitude for being able to take part in it, even as nothing more than a spectator. He had very nearly brought Zen flowers earlier in the evening for the same reasons, but in the end had decided that bringing along a boyfriend that Zen could harass was payment enough. Perhaps that would have been enough for Nicolette, as well, though her purpose would be celebration rather than harassment. She was the type of person that drew her happiness from the joys of those around her. Knowing that he had moved on, that he had fought through the storm and found an anchor, that was something she would consider gift enough.

It wasn’t. Nothing could ever be enough to repay her for the kindness and patience that she had shown them all. Nothing could equal the bliss of having barriers broken down amongst everyone that he knew, and in their place the fastening of friendships that ran deeper and truer than ties of blood or honor. So he would have brought her flowers, and he would have let Aleks put their collective gratitude into more eloquent words than Jumin was capable of, spoken in that Russian lilt that was like a song in and of itself.

They separated after a handful of steps that Jumin hadn’t bothered to count, Aleks lengthening his stride so that he could take the lead. The campus around them was silent, like an image on a canvas whose movement could be explained away as a trick of the light. The lanterns were really dabs of paint, the snow the untarnished white of stretched cloth. The trees and buildings were hallucinations blotted onto the blank background by a fevered mind that longed for serenity that could not exist in a living, breathing world. Jumin expected the spell to be broken at any moment, to see Nicolette’s shock of red hair disrupting the cool colors of the night as she bounded into the scene. He could picture her smirk, her laugh, the flicker glimmering in her gaze that never burned so brightly that it hurt to see. That was the benefit of the stars. They let you look at them for as long as you needed, without scouring your eyes for the privilege of light.

He glanced at Aleks, and he could see the fear carved across his face, chiseled into his jawline as he clenched his teeth. By some twist of fate Aleks had discovered Nicolette all on his own, and had clearly come to care for her in that time. He had come to care for Jumin, as well, through a miraculous path that thread itself through a needle to make it to the end. Any number of things could have dissolved the fragile bond that had been built between them by the thawing of Jumin’s heart, yet it could never have been anything else than what it was. It had been meant to unfold that way, and so it had. Now Jumin understood the world, understood what it was he had been waiting for and longing for, and Aleks had…him. What sorrow would that bring him, though? Jumin could look back on the years of his life and count the many disasters, bedecking his memories like paintings in a museum. Each one was followed by lulls of broken promises, of unspoken feelings and the fear of what they meant, of danger returning like a migratory bird that summered in their fates. Was that what he had to offer? Would loving him condemn Aleks to participation in an endless string of sorrows?

“I’m sorry. For getting you involved in this.” He half mumbled the words into his scarf, feeling heat creep across his cheeks as Aleks stopped to look at him. “I wish that I could say this was a rare occurrence, but of late this has been the norm.”

Aleks rolled his eyes, stepping over and taking Jumin’s hand. “Why would you apologize for such a thing?”

“Because I…” words eluded him for a moment as he lost himself in the patience and adoration in Aleks’ eyes. “I should have warned you.”

The musician chuckled, shaking his head and tugging Jumin’s hand until he stumbled forward. “One, that is a silly thing to think. Two, you could have told me that you were a murderer who killed pianists, and I still would have given you my heart with no regret. Three, I’m not going anywhere, and I promise I will devote much time showing you this when Nicky is not missing.” Aleks rose up on his feet and kissed him, filling it with passion though he only let it last a moment. “Now, if you are quite finished, may we proceed?”

“I love you.” He blurted the words out, ungainly and hasty, unsure of how else to express his flustered gratitude over his abundance of luck. Finding Aleks was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and maybe that was what it took. Maybe that was the boon that could tip the scale and start to sway things in their favor.

Aleks smirked, dragging them both forward along the path without speaking further, though he didn’t have to. Jumin could see it in his eyes, and it meant more than just the words would have. He loved and he was loved, and perhaps that would be enough.

They only made it a few more steps before they both stopped, encountering the first broken snowfall that they had seen that evening.

The area was darker than other points in the path, the lamp post closest to them unlit, the bulb within dead and useless. A chill ran along his spine as he stared at the ground, looking at the tableau of footprints that told a story which he did not want to be told. There were tracks leading from the building further across the campus, a clear dotting of dark in the flawless snow, already filling as more white plummeted from the sky. A second set of tracks appeared midway along the trail, and wove circles in and out of the shadows near the first before coming up around them. The second set was much larger. In the space before them, beneath the shadows of the useless light, there were long scrapes drawn through the snow, spots where feet had slid through the ice and sent the drifts aflutter. The pattern was erratic and violent, rough and frantic where the prints further away had seemed unhurried and peaceful. More prints led away from the site, towards the park on the edge of the path, the footfalls spaced further apart for both the smaller and larger feet, indicating that they had been running.

Aleks took a step in the direction they led, and before his foot had hit the ground they heard it.

High and clear, desperate and alarmed. It cut through the air, slicing the quiet to ribbons that fell in shreds at their feet. It shook the trees, destroyed the spell of solitude, and filled him with fear that consumed every fiber of every nerve in his flesh. It was horrible to hear, horrible to feel as it penetrated the depths of his hope, disillusioning him to any possibility of an ending beyond havoc. The chaos had come home to roost once more, finding them and shattering the lie of their safety. Oh what folly it had been to hope, when they could have expended that energy on urgency, to arrive before the pealing call of panic would have needed to ring through the night.

Nicolette screamed, and Jumin and Aleks ran towards the sound.

 


	103. Shine a Little Brighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nicky faces her assailant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...trigger warning. It should probably be obvious for what, if you've gotten this far.

Meanwhile…

***

“I don’t want to go anywhere without you ever again.”

She twisted her head, pulling it out of his hands as she took a step back. He let her go, bequeathing her the small bit of distance between them as he grinned. His smile was draped in the smug satisfaction of someone who knew that they had won, who was confident in the predetermined outcome of their endeavor. He was easily two feet taller than her, and twice her weight. He was probably faster, too, his longer legs giving him yet another advantage, especially when her own shook like a fledgling fawn’s. There was no escaping this, not even out in the open air of a barren campus. She had thought, when this nightmare had first started months ago, that the worst fate for her had been being cornered in that small practice room, trapped like a rat. Now she realized the truth, the bitter fact of the matter that had eluded her because she thought he was nothing more than a ghoul from her past. What had trapped her had never been the room, or the soundproofing that muffled her voice so that no one could hear her strangled cries. She was trapped within the bounds of his obsession, held sway in the ancient amber of his gaze, and that was the source of the danger. Her location didn’t matter, and it never had, so long as she was in his mind.

“Bel frutto proibito, mine for the taking. You have grown lovelier while I was away.” He stepped forward, prompting her to step back, his lips stretching wider, a leer that drew the warmth from the air and bathed her blood in ice. “I did not think such a thing was possible, but here you are, positively glowing in the moonlight.”

“Why are you doing this?” she sidestepped, moving away from him and around him, willfully keeping her eyes from darting in the direction of the parking lot. If she could stall him maybe she could make it to the car, maybe she could get in and start the engine and speed away before he could ever lay another hand on her again. It was a dance of attrition, a battle of patience that she could not stand to lose. If she could march to the right rhythm she could escape. That was what she had to believe.

He licked his lips, his eyes glassy. “Because I love you, Nicolette.”

“Is that what you told Liara?” she slid her feet through the snow, gaining another inch of freedom. She forced herself to remain still and calm, wishing that she could bolt, a frightened lark flitting from the danger that loomed large on her perch. She swallowed, blinking slowly as her phone started vibrating in her pocket. She was grateful that it was still on silent, unable to draw the attention of her attacker. It was a small blessing that she had not turned on the chime when she had sent her last message to Zen. Was that him now? Had some brotherly source of intuition tipped him off to her danger? The phone went still, and she felt alone without the movement.

Capalli chuckled, shaking his head. “Jealous, I see. Do you think what I had with Liara was anything more than a fling? I was only using her to ease the ache of not having you.”

She wanted to vomit, but she swallowed back the bile that churned at the back of her throat. “So, you were always using her.” Liara’s face loomed in her memories, covered in tears as she mourned the love of a man that she had never really had. Used. Nothing more than a stand-in for the source of his obsession. “How many girls have you ‘ _used_ _’_? How many others were victims to your sick attention?” her phone fluttered in her pocket again, and her fingers itched with her need to answer.

He walked forward quickly, erasing all the ground that she had gained and sloshing snow in every direction. He lifted his hand, brushing her hair out of her face before he knotted his fingers in the loose strands, yanking it away from her scalp painfully. “You think I’m crude? You think it selfish of me to take what was willingly given?” he twisted his hand and she gasped, every pulled follicle sending bolts of agony through the side of her head. “These girls bat their eyelashes at me and blush when I smile, wearing skirts that grow shorter the longer that I compliment them. I satisfy my appetite, and they gain confidence and experience. Does that make me evil, Nicolette? Does that repulse you from accepting how you feel about me?”

She swallowed, the muscles of her neck straining around it as they stretched backwards. “The _only_ thing I feel for you is repulsion.” Her voice was shaking as much as her legs, her body trying to crumble under the enormous weight of her resistance. She wanted to fight, she wanted to drop to the ground and grow numb, to travel to the ends of outer space so that everything that was happening to her here on earth was millions of miles away. Her phone was vibrating in her pocket once more, but she hardly noticed it. She didn’t want to feel her own skin, didn’t want to be in her own flesh. She wanted the space ship to come, to take her away to the rings of Saturn, where no one could hurt her again.

“Not true.” He was a jackal whose fangs were dripping with salivation, lips shimmering with moisture as foul as venom when he smiled. “Your cheeks are flushed. I can feel your heart racing, pumping the blood through your precious skin.” He tilted her head back further, and tears of pain trickled from the edges of her eyes. “Have you ever asked yourself what the chase means to you? Have you ever wondered why it is you fill with adrenaline when I’m around? You enjoy it as much as you enjoy being an object of desire. You enjoy the danger of pushing me to my limits and watching me snap.”

All the denial in her head faded beneath the buzzing of doubt that crept over her senses. Enjoying danger? Was that the fault that plagued her? A shadow was swirling over her vision as she blinked up at the clouds that raced across the sky, filling the world with blackness that blotted out the stars as they pulsed with woe. She wanted to reject him, she wanted to ignore every word that he spoke, to dismiss it as the ranting of a madman. But what if there was truth to be found in the insanity? A random pattern of fragmented logic, forming together to display a single grain of fact. She did not want _him,_ she hated him and everything that he stood for, but what if she had developed a taste for danger through what he had done to her? What if that was what had drawn her to Saeyoung, who had repeatedly told her he would bring her harm? What if she was so broken that she could never be happy unless something terrible was happening to her, some peril crossing her path to make her heart pound and her blood boil?

Was she the cause of her own misfortune? Had she asked for this, in some unconscious, unspoken way that only the deranged senses of a cretin could perceive? Death and pain and suffering kept finding her, endlessly and always. She had long believed that, when something was repeated often enough, the source would inevitably be found within. Perhaps she was the curse. Perhaps she was the lightning rod that drew forth all the strife that had found those around her. Without her, perhaps V would have found a way to save Rika before things had plummeted down the path they had. Rika would have released Saeran, safely and without malice. Saeyoung would have found his brother in one piece, not the shattered ruin they had rescued. But she had drawn Saeran’s attention. She had been chosen by people as unstable as the one ripping her hair from her scalp in the present. Had she asked to be selected? Had they seen her eyes and known that she was desperate to be thrown into the fires so that they could burn her away? _Had she continued the cycle by wishing for more?_

Her phone buzzed in her pocket again, and it reminded her of everything that she had fought for, all the reasons why they had braved the danger in the first place.

She kicked backwards, shoving her foot into his knee. He grunted as she stumbled away from him, but used his grip on her hair to spin her around. The knuckles of his other hand smashed against her mouth, and she felt the sting of the skin on her lip splitting, warm blood leeching from the wound to collide with the frigid air. The impact knocked his hold on her loose, and she didn’t waste time being stunned by the blow. She darted across the path, towards the thick trees of the park on the other side, the brush near their trunks offering the only shelter she could think of. With every step forward she prayed that she could find somewhere to hide, that she could pull out her phone and let one of the people incessantly calling her know that she needed help. They had called her dozens of times by now, surely they knew something had gone wrong when she hadn’t answered. Surely when she looked at the screen she would see a message where one of her friends had already declared that they were on their way.

She made it just beyond the edge of the trees, into the thick shadows beneath their naked boughs, before he caught up to her. He grabbed her arm, yanking her backwards and sending throbbing pain lancing down her arm. She started to cry out in pain but he clapped a hand over her mouth, silencing the sound with his sweat tainted palm. He crushed her into him, his head next to her ear so that she felt every gusted breath pass over her skin.

He chuckled, an ominous, feral growl that held no mirth. Joyless, dark, dripping with ridicule. “Come now, Nicolette, that was half-hearted at best. You let me catch you too soon. I expected more of a fight.” He shifted his arm to wrap it around her middle, inhaling deeply as he rubbed his nose along the side of her face. She whimpered, even though she tried to suppress it, tried to avoid giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he terrified her. “After all, the reason that I know how you feel so well is because I am cut from the same cloth. I love the chase, I love the danger and destruction. I love this game of cat and mouse almost as much as I love you.” He moved his hand from her mouth so that he could trail it along her neck, slipping his fingers below the top edge of her coat.

“Game?” fury inserted itself as the dominant force in her mind, churning and colliding with the fear to create a storm that overtook her faculties. It dispelled the hold his words had on her, dispelled the thrall that made her doubt her own feelings. “You think it was a _game_ for me?”

“Of course.” He kissed her neck, and she tried to jerk out of his grip, tried to inch away from the touch as her mind dissolved into red hot rage. “You lured me into loving you with those big, bright eyes. Then you declared to all the world that there’s nothing between us, that you felt nothing that night even though we all saw the truth on the camera feed.” He dragged his tongue along her skin and she screwed her eyes shut, trying to force her nerves to die so that she could not feel the disgust that crawled up and down her spine. “You played hard to get, sending me to prison, but what was the first thing you did when I was gone? You used all that savvy to get my wife out of the picture. You banished her and burned your friendships to the ground, so that nothing could stand between us when I returned. What else am I to think?” he shoved his hand lower, sending a button flying off her jacket as he jerked the fabric out of the way. “Ah, but you didn’t play fair, did you? I _waited_ for you, Nicolette, but you didn’t wait for me. Even if it was only retribution for Liara, I still couldn’t let it slide. That was what the violin was for.”

Everything spun to a halt that froze the air in her lungs and stilled the blood in her veins, his words snapping the strings that reality had dangled from.

“The violin?”

“Oh yes. I stayed long enough to see your face when you found it. I know how much my message meant to you. I know that you learned a valuable lesson that day.” His teeth brushed against the nape of her neck, pricking her skin as he smiled. “Did you think I would just _let_ you fuck some raggedy miscreant without punishing you?”

She was speechless, her mind adrift in between the meaning that he had whispered against her flesh. He had been the one to smash her violin. He had done it out of jealousy, a gesture of dominance that none of them had thought to take note of. He had declared his possession of her by smashing the one thing he knew that she cherished, the one thing that she had spoken of to him with any kind of attachment. He had destroyed it to inflict pain on her, retribution in response to her living her life. As though he had a right to reprimand her. As though he owned her. As though he could lay claim to what she did with her body and who she devoted herself to.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to fight. She wanted to feed the rage inside her head until it engulfed the entire world…but instead she went numb, her fingers tingling as everything around her went dead and weightless. She fell to pieces, her resolve, her sanity, her will to live. It crumbled in his hands as he held her sway, like the splinters of a violin that she could never play again.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be the only one to pay. I’ll punish him for having the gall to touch you, but later. Once your safe and away from his vile defilement.”

_No._ “Saeyoung…” she whispered his name, as though evoking it could stop the ill intent behind her tormentor’s words, as though it could summon him to rescue her and whisk her away to safety.

Capalli jerked her face around, so that she was forced to look at him, fingers bruising her cheeks as he shook with rage and hatred. “Don’t you _dare_ say his name.”

She pressed her lips together, tears pouring down her cheeks, but she gathered her strength and twisted, throwing her body to the side. It worked, loosening his grip just long enough so that she could break free. She raced forward, the salty sorrow running from the edges of her eyes already freezing against her face. It was a doomed attempt before it started, but still she tried. There was too much ice, too much frozen ground hidden beneath the crystal snow, too much hopelessness sapping the will from her bones. She slipped, skidding forward before crashing into the ground. Sharp pieces of rock dug into her, shredding the fabric of her pants and slicing across her skin. She screamed, then screamed again much louder as he wrenched her shoulder to the side, flipping her onto her back. He was on top of her in the blink of an eye, in the span of the flutter of hummingbird flight, in the solitary stillness between one heartbeat and the next. His weight crushed her breath from her lungs, his mouth stealing the tail end of her shriek as he kissed her, sating his consuming obsession with greedy fervor.

He pulled back, his lip smeared with the blood from her own, and she filled her lungs with air. “Help! Somebody help me!” her throat was raw, the cry croaked and hushed, and the echoes of the shout were swallowed by the downy white around them, the sound unable to carry very far.

“Still playing games, la mia peccaminosa diletto?” he grabbed her wrists, shoving them further into the ground, pinning her so that she couldn’t strike him with her useless fists. “Even if you didn’t want this, you know better. Nobody will help you. Nobody is going to come and save you, just like nobody came to your defense at that farce of a trial.” He kissed her again, long and slow, burning like acrid fire that left cinders of poisonous ire against her unwilling tongue before he released her. “I am tired of the chase now, Nicolette. Give in to me. Give in, and I promise that I can make it as good as the danger. I promise I can make it as good for you as it will be for me.”

His words lingered like cigarette smoke in a filthy bar. Nobody would help her. The crazed look in his eyes echoed others that she had seen, other people that had wanted her to give in to their commands and waste away beneath their will. Rika’s sneer was the same as his own, as though they were blending into one person, living for the same purpose. She remembered her cruel laugh, her insistence that she was useless, worthless, a little dove with wings that never worked. It was Capalli’s hips that ground her into the snow, but Rika’s voice that consumed her memory. She could see Saeran, too, tossing her phone to the side and telling her that she was alone and would always be alone. His misguided cruelty the same madness as the confessions of love that her captor was mumbling against her neck.

Maybe they were all right. Maybe she loved the chase. Maybe she was worthless and alone. Maybe nobody would come to save her.

Or maybe she just needed to shine a little brighter in order to prove them wrong.

She shoved her knee into his side, as hard as she could, and he wheezed in pain as she impacted his ribs. The air was driven up and out of his chest, his eyes bulging wide while his face turned red. She rolled, shoving him off her before scrambling to her feet, snow slipping into the rips in her pants where they had torn when she hit the ground. He started to get up, and she drove her foot into his stomach, launching him into the air. He tumbled across the snow, gasping with each crunching revolution until he landed on his back, staring up at the sky.

She walked to stand over him, glaring down as her hands trembled, curled into fists. “I don’t need to be saved. I’m not some damsel. I’m not worthless, and I’m not alone. Fuck you, and fuck everything you did to me, and everything you did to every other girl here.”

“Nicolette, my love…” his eyes were full of remorse and sorrow, swimming with the pain she had inflicted on him. For a moment she thought her words held power, that they had broken through the delusions that clouded his judgment and fostered compassion in his steely heart. Then he twisted, catching her by surprise as he wrapped his arms around her legs. She screamed, frightened and desperate, her throat tearing open with the force of the shriek as it carried high and clear. “I won’t let you leave me this time.”

She yanked one foot free and kicked him again, this time in his chest, but he didn’t let go. His fingers wrapped around her ankle, his hand engulfing her smaller limb, and she groaned in rage and frustration. She kicked again with the foot that she could control, and then again, over and over, feeling his fingers gripping her like a vice, bruising her skin and burning holes in her sanity. She just wanted it to end, she wanted his hold on her to be gone forever. She could not suffer his obsession any more. Not now, and not ever again.

She was still kicking him when arms wrapped around her own, lifting her into the air and swinging her to the side where she could not reach him. She screamed, although she thought that she might have already been screaming, this new sound just another chord to add to the chorus of desolation that ripped through her lungs. Her tears were hot enough to scald her cheeks as she tried to escape this new threat, the freezing wind full of ice that filled the sky.

“Nicolette, shhhhh. Hey, calm down, it’s okay. I’m here.” The voice was low, deep, and with every syllable it carried her back to reality with gentle grace. She stopped struggling, blinking until she could see through the blur of tears veiling her vision. She turned in the arms that held her, looking up as Jumin swam into focus, his eyes full of worry as he brushed her hair away to examine her face. “You’re bleeding. Your lip…” he sighed, closing his eyes against the sight of her. When he opened them again he looked stronger, but also sadder. “Did he hurt you?”

She started sobbing, words intangible and impossible as she fell into Jumin’s arms. He wrapped her up tightly, the warmth and safety of his embrace giving her the security to crumble to pieces the way she wanted to, the way she needed to. She still felt like she could feel the hand wrapped around her ankle, even though she knew it couldn’t be. She couldn’t bring herself to look down and check, instead burying her face into her friend’s coat.

She had fought, and she had won, and now it was over. Finally, for the last time, it was over.


	104. Didn’t Need to be Spelled Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we deal with the aftermath of the crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thread last chapter of you guys declaring vengeful intent and signing up to bring weapons to an Anti-Capalli potluck of murder was my favorite thing ever. 
> 
> Bless all of you, you are the best readers a fanfic author could hope for. <3

She was shuddering in his grasp, more distraught than he had ever seen her, and he tried to use his embrace to impart what strength he had into her. When he had found her wandering the streets in late autumn, lacking shoes and carrying the weight of loss on her frail shoulders, he had thought there was no lower that she could be dragged. The sobs she buried in his chest tonight were worse than the ones she had released when Saeyoung had broken her heart. These were not the tears of a girl who missed her love, but the tears of a girl who had been broken in ways that went deeper than any could understand who had not lived the same trauma. He did not need to hear her say it to know why she was in the middle of a park beneath the shade of winter, screaming like the world was ending as she kicked the man who had tried to end it. It was the type of thing that didn’t need to be spelled out to be understood.

He enveloped her, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the fabric of her coat as her shoulders rose and fell with the force of her dissolution. He held her as though arms and love alone were enough to protect her from what had happened. His hold on her was protection for himself, as well, for if he did not have her as his anchor, then his anger would not be contained. Were he not holding her, he would have already descended upon the semi-conscious wretch where he lay writhing in the snow, and once Jumin reached him there would have been no force to keep him from ending his life with as much brutality as he could muster.

Aleks knelt in front of the older man on the ground, reaching out to lift his face so that they could see it clearly. Jumin recognized him from the pictures that had been in the articles regarding the court case, and his loathing was so acute that he thought it would devour everything that he was and leave nothing but the need for revenge in its wake. Jumin pulled Nicolette further away from her old professor, wishing that he could erase every trace that the foul creature had ever left in this life, erase the damage that he had done and the trauma he had caused. There was no form of damnation cruel enough for a man that could have harmed Nicolette so brutally once before, only to return and renew the onslaught as though her resistance fed his disgusting inclinations. Nicolette was full of love for all the world, and this man was aroused at the idea of destroying as much of it as he could.

He deserved so much worse than death for those crimes.

Aleks’ released the man’s head, his lip curling in disgust as he rose. The face that Jumin knew could be capable of such gentle and beautiful expressions was stony as he glared at the criminal, disdain evident in the tension threading through every muscle in his slender frame. He pulled out his phone, unlocking it and dialing a short number, brushing his hair away from his face. The man on the ground stirred, consciousness returning to him after the beating that Nicolette had delivered had rendered him inert. Aleks narrowed his eyes, fury etched in his gaze, and he lifted his foot to place it on the man’s throat, applying just enough pressure to keep the vile felon still. The criminal’s eyes flew open, but he ceased his movement, his expression one of fear as he took in his situation. Jumin heard a murmured voice on the other end of the call, and Aleks started rattling off information to the emergency operator, asking for the police. Jumin wanted to run to him, to kiss him and tell him how much he adored him for following him into this situation, for standing by his side to rescue their mutual friend. For knowing what needed to be done without an abundance of explanation, for knowing what had happened just by looking at their distraught friend and needing no further enlightenment to act. Aleks was his own kind of miracle, just by virtue of his existence, and Jumin loved him all the more for it. He would dedicate the rest of his life to making sure that Aleks understood just how much he was loved.

For now, however, it was Nicolette that needed his care, and he would grant as much of it as he contained. Jumin caught his boyfriend’s eye, tilting his head to indicate he was going to take Nicolette a little further away, and Aleks nodded his wordless understanding.

He turned, guiding Nicolette away from the scene, taking her just far enough out of the area so that she would not be able to see through the bushes surrounding them, keeping her attacker out of her line of sight. Though they were still close enough that they would be within earshot if anything further were to happen, as Jumin didn’t want to add Aleks to the list of victims this evening. The man had taken a beating, so Jumin doubted he would be rising to fight any time soon, but it was better not to take chances, considering the vendetta that fate seemed to have against those around him.

He loosened his hold on the trembling girl in his arms, moving one of his hands to tilt her head up. Her lip was split, a trickle of red seeping from the cut as the pink skin around it had already begun its fade to purple. There were bruises sinking into the softer pads of her cheeks, as well; blotches where fingers had been pressed in too roughly. She sniffed, her chest rising and falling erratically as she struggled to breathe around the decreasing sobs, her eyes glistening with tears that were still leaking between her lashes.

“Are you hurt anywhere that I cannot see?” his voice was low as he murmured the question, praying with all his might that the answer was no. Praying that the fact that her clothes were mostly intact meant that her professor had not accomplished what he had set out to.

If he had, then Jumin _would_ kill him. Without hesitation or mercy.

She shook her head, reaching up to wipe her eyes, a semblance of calm returning to her demeanor. “No. I don’t think so. Just some scrapes.” She looked down at her legs, at the rips in her pants, dusted red from the scratches underneath. Her gaze flitted over in the direction they had come from, a tremble of fear rocking across her shoulders. “Is he…did I…?”

“Kill him?” Jumin shook his head, marveling at her concern, even now. By all rights she should have _wanted_ to kill him, but instead she looked afraid of the possibility. Kindness and compassion, as uncountable as the stars. That was their Nicolette. “No, he is not dead. Aleks is holding him down until the police arrive.”

She winced, biting her lip and then stopping abruptly when her teeth found the split. “Oh, right. Police.”

“You object?”

“No. It has to be done. It just…” she inhaled slowly, shaking her head. “The last time wasn’t the greatest experience.”

“You’ll be treated with respect, or I’ll have their jobs. Don’t fret.” He pulled her into another hug, and she pressed her cheek against his chest.

“Thanks, Jumin. How did you know where to find me?”

“We didn’t. This was just the first place we checked when we realized you were not answering your phone. I expect you have a great many missed calls, by the way. Saeyoung requested additional attempts when he could not reach you himself.”

“I know, I could feel it in my pocket, but I was too scared to answer.” She fell silent for the span of a few seconds, and he struggled to find words to convey his sorrow for what she had been through. She continued before he found them, and managed to erase the sentiment to replace it with incredulity. “Oh, Jumin, I’m so sorry this interrupted your date!”

“You can’t be serious?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, blinking in innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You’re impossible. My date should be the very last thing on your mind at this moment, and is of no consequence where your safety is concerned.” She opened her mouth to protest, so he continued, to squash it before she could. “Aleks and I are completely in accord on this matter, so no arguments.”

She pouted, and it was as endearing as it was infuriating. “Okay. Sorry I worried you.”

He sighed, wishing that he could pinch the bridge of his nose without having to release her. “Nicolette, there is literally nothing that you should be apologizing for at this moment. If you do so again, I’ll drag you to Ash for a therapy session myself. Immediately.”

She choked on a small, breathy laugh, the ghost of a smile stretching across her face. “Threatening me with my own therapist? That’s low.”

“So is inviting her to a party behind my back.” He smiled so that she knew there was no malice behind his words, easing the comment from accusation to joke.

She raised both her eyebrows. “Fair point. Is Saeyoung with Saeran?” her disappointment was evident, a thread of inferiority working its way through the words. She was worried that she had been forgotten, that even though her safety had been on the line, Saeran had taken precedence. She wasn’t wrong, though the circumstances changed things in ways that she could not perceive. Jumin knew that, had Saeran been safely at home, the RFA would have been tasked with watching him while Saeyoung raced across the campus to locate her. They would not have been able to keep him from riding in like a knight to rescue his princess. His brother’s imminent peril was the only force capable of overriding Nicolette’s presumed peril, the one situation that could have kept him from rushing to her aid.

It was perhaps for the best that he had not. As murderous as Jumin felt towards the would-be rapist, had Saeyoung been the one to find him, his life would have ended in the span of a single breath, no questions asked or quarter given. As much as Jumin wished that could be the case, he also knew that he would rather hire lawyers to condemn a criminal than to defend his friend for murdering one.

Jumin sighed, bringing himself back to the moment and looking at the fretful girl in his arms. “I suppose you won’t allow me to postpone that explanation until after we’ve talked to the police?”

She frowned, her brow furrowing. “Did something happen?”

“Nicolette, please, you’ve been through enough -”

“Jumin. Come on. If given the choice between the easy answer or the honest answer, you know we both prefer the honest one.” She sounded enough like herself that he couldn’t bring himself to hold back the truth, trusting that she could handle it despite what she had already been through. If anything was true of Nicolette, it was that she was resilient. He only hoped she would remain collected enough that they could complete their business here before she tried to race off to help Saeyoung.

“He’s looking for Saeran, with the others. There was a fight when he tried to take him home, and Saeran managed to incapacitate him and run off.”

“Oh god.” She reached out, grabbing onto his arm as her legs grew visibly unsteady. “I should go, I should -”

“You _should_ be still. Everyone in the RFA is with him, he is not searching alone. We will remain here until the police arrive, and you’ve been examined by a paramedic. Then, _if_ they clear you for it, we will go join up with the others.”

She glared at him, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t just leave them. I have to help.”

“If you would like to help, then I suggest sending Saeyoung a message to let him know you’re alright.” He arched an eyebrow at her, pleased when the suggestion dispelled some of the rebellion that he knew was already brewing in her stubborn little head. He knew that she would gladly ignore a concussion in order to chase after her love, and so he made it his personal duty for the remainder of the night to ensure that she didn’t destroy herself trying to save the twins. Saeyoung and the rest of them could take care of Saeran, and Jumin would be responsible for Nicolette. Together, through the combined power of their little family, perhaps they could save them all.

He heard sirens as Nicolette fished her phone out of her pocket, her eyes glossing over with more tears as she looked at what she found on the screen. He led them back towards the scene of the crime as she unlocked the device and sent a message, and she did not resist his guidance. Aleks remained poised above the defunct professor, phone still in his hand as he glowered at the man below him.

He glanced up at their return, his gaze full of relief as he saw Nicolette no longer sobbing. He shared a look of love with his boyfriend, a small celebration that the immediate danger had passed. Their night would yet grow longer, but Nicolette was safe now, and that was a victory that planted the seed of hope in his chest. They had not kept her from all harm, but she would live to return to her love, to return to her family, and that was enough for him in this moment. They would all stand by her side to heal whatever scars remained after this night, and together they could coax the smile back onto her face.

That was what family was for.


	105. Strong Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeyoung climbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IT'S A BIT LATE. This chapter has been difficult to write, so hopefully it has turned out okay. :D

He craned his neck, tilting his head back to look up at the mountain of rusted metal, a frigid test of fortitude towering over him. At the bottom, attached to a jagged piece of broken piping, a single shred of cloth fluttered in the rising wind. He recognized it, since it had come from a shirt that was originally his, given to the hospital staff to dress his brother, hours and what felt like a lifetime ago. He didn’t know what fate the shirt had found, but a piece of it lingered along the path that his brother had traveled, the first solid indication that Saeyoung was heading in the right direction.

Saeran had gone up, and now he had to follow.

Scaling a fire escape was not the most daunting task that he had ever been presented with, but his shoulder was throbbing with every heartbeat that thrummed in his chest, reminding him that he had no business climbing anything. He had no business being up this late after a surgery. He had no business traipsing around town in the freezing predawn. He should be at home, sleeping. Barring that, he should be with Nicky, chastising her for forgetting her phone, because that was the only explanation for her silence that he was allowing his mind to conjure. He should be curled up with her on the couch, watching a movie or wrapping Christmas presents. Saeran should be with them, smiling and happy.

Saeran deserved to be smiling and happy.

He had done a circuit around the building once he had found the remnant of cloth, and he knew three pieces of information from that reconnaissance collection. One, the door at the front was locked and bolted, so he would have to shatter the window to get in that way. Two, his brother’s body was not, at this moment, anywhere on the ground below, which meant that he was still above, on the rooftop. Three, the only way up without breaking into the building was the rusted, half-crumbled fire escape, covered in frost and ill omen.

He rolled his neck, the joints at the base of his skull popping in order, a xylophone of cracks muffled by skin and muscles so that they only echoed in his own ears. He would have stretched, but it would have just aggravated his injury further, and he was already about to piss it off to the point that he would probably need additional surgery. And that was only if he was lucky, since he was risking permanent damage that couldn’t be repaired with prayer or scalpel. He had to make that sacrifice, though. He would gladly give his arm to save his brother. He would give all his limbs, all his flesh and everything trapped inside it, if only Saeran would live.

_Promise me that you_ _’ll come back to me._

He grit his teeth, ignoring the conflicting notions churning in his head, Nicky’s words a bitter reminder that the fires of sacrifice would break his promises to her. He had his hand on the rung closest to his shoulders, the metal whispering to him with faint creaks at the pressure, when his phone chimed in his pocket. He let go of the fire escape, fingers shaking as he reached into his pocket and fished it out. His heart jumped into his throat as he saw the picture on the screen, her eyes like home and hope trapped in mortal form, and he forgot about the climb for a moment to unlock the device and look at the message. It was short, it was to the point, but it was from _her,_ and that meant that she was okay.

**Nicolette: I** **’m so sorry, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you, please keep both of you safe.**

There was no explanation offered for her absence, but for now he didn’t need it. He was sure that she would fill him in when she arrived. He held the phone to his chest, as though pressing it against his heart would let her know how much he loved her, how happy he was that she was safe after all. He closed his eyes, thanking the silent night for this small bit of grace. No matter what happened on his way up, no matter what he encountered on that rooftop, Nicky was alive, and that mattered more to him than he could put into words.

He didn’t take the time to respond, knowing that he would get to see her soon. He put his phone away and grabbed the metal ladder again, putting his foot on the rung lowest to the ground. He stepped up, letting his weight settle on the rusted bones of the structure, and it let out a creak like an ancient horror screeching into the deep night. Cthulhu would have sounded less irate than the decrepit iron as it was called into use. He winced, wondering if his brother had heard it at the top, wondering if it would matter if he had. Would Saeran know he was coming and jump? Would he arise only to see his brother fall? He glanced up, counting the floors as he did. Seven stories. Seven levels of building that he would have to ascend, with one arm and searing pain lancing through his injury.

He had no choice, but he never did. There was always one more disaster backing him into a corner.

He lifted himself higher, taking it a step at a time, his progress ungainly because he only had one arm to work with. He concentrated on balance, on finding a way to hold the icy metal so that he wouldn’t lose his grip. He tried to find a rhythm, but it eluded him for the first flight. He passed up to the platform where the ladder ended, the next one zagging on the other end in the back and forth pattern that would take him skyward. He stepped onto the square, flat grating, and he felt everything sway beneath his mass. At least half of the screws that had attached the whole thing to the side of the building had rusted apart years ago, so it swung like a pendulum as he stepped across. Rust dislodged from the rafters above his head, sending flakes of red-orange cascading down on top of him. He felt them stick in his lashes and hair, and he sneezed as his skin started itching in response.

He shook his hair out and made his way to the second ladder, grasping it tightly as he started the process again. There was a rung in the middle that had an obvious crack in it, and he skipped that one, extending his leg higher than was comfortable to reach the one above it. The opening above him was smaller than the last, and he had to twist at a strange angle to fit through it, his wrist shaking from the odd direction that he pulled the muscles around the bone. He gasped when he made it through, releasing his grip so that he could throw his hand on the grating of the platform for better balance. He climbed the rest of the way onto it, and a symphony of groaning metal followed him. It reminded him of the sound effects that they used in all those movies about dinosaurs, like the scaffolding was an ancient creature, resurrected and unleashed upon this building, and he had come along to disturb its coveted slumber.

He shuffled his way to the next ladder, rising on shaking legs. This one was sturdier, and he felt like it held his weight better, which made the first few rungs easier to traverse. He was just starting to feel like he was getting the hang of it when the wind picked up, slamming into the side of the building like it had a vendetta against crumbling bricks. It shook the fire escape, rocking it back and forth at alarming angles, and he had to wrap his arm around the rung that he was on to keep his hold. He closed his eyes, feeling the cold stir through his hair and the air fill with moisture from the coming storm. He felt his center of gravity shift from side to side in reaction to the sway of the skeletal metal he clung to, and the sensation made him nauseous. The gusts faded, dropping to a low murmur again as the clouds crept closing across the horizon. He no longer needed the death grip on the rung, so he eased away from it, putting his hand in a more manageable position. He was shaking, rattled from the experience. He took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and started climbing again.

By the time he was on the third platform his fingers had gone numb, the cold of the metal leeching through his skin to settle into his bones. He crawled through the opening and onto the metal grating, sliding a bit in a layer of frost that he hadn’t expected. There was a pipe on the wall that was leaking, puff of steam that turning into water in the cold air, and the moisture had covered the grating, freezing into a thin layer of crystal ice that resisted pressure and friction. He had to take slower steps towards the other end of the floor, where the next ladder beckoned. When he arrived, his legs were trembling as his adrenaline screamed in his veins. He noticed that the rungs leading upward were caked in ice as well. It burned against his skin as he wrapped his palms around it, and his sneakers slid and swerved on the surface of the rounded piping when he stepped onto them. He took his time, moving just a little slower than the others, and sighed in relief when he made it to the fourth platform.

There was more ice. He glanced at the ladders and platforms above him, and he could see patchwork patterns of frozen water going up as far as he could see. It looked like it was a hazard that he would have to avoid for the rest of the way. He shivered before he crossed the rotting metal floor, then he stumbled a bit. Not because of ice, but because of his own nerves, throttling through his limbs to create chaos where he needed calm. He flailed, grabbing the edge of the railing, and the resulting vibrations sent a potted plant that had been resting on the corner tumbling off the edge. It flipped end over end a couple of times before it impacted into the ground, shattering into a hundred pieces and splattering muddy soil across the concrete. He stared at it, feeling a lot like the withered seedling that had been obliterated after the fall.

He couldn’t help but think of Klein when he saw it, because he always thought of Klein when he saw potted plants. How many seeds had he planted during the time that they had worked together? Thirty? Forty? Less, or more? Was that one of them, left forgotten on an empty stoop until some unknowing person had stashed it out here to get it out of the way? Saeyoung smirked, bitter and regretful. That was an apt metaphor for Klein’s existence. A small piece of life, just trying to grow where he had been thrown, until the world had thought to shove him aside because he had been in the way of something more. That’s what happened to plants that didn’t get roots. They got ripped away and placed in dark corners, where clumsy idiots could end their existence without ever thinking twice about it. Without ever knowing whose memory he had just erased.

A legacy of missed opportunity, carried on by the mistakes of those who followed.

He stood, pushing away from the railing and finishing his trek to the fifth ladder. He would always make mistakes, but he would be damned if one of them would be giving up so early. That was the one thing that would have ensured Klein’s disappointment.

The fifth ladder had less ice than he had originally thought, and he could grasp the metal securely. The wind picked up again, whistling around him, but not as savage as it had before, so it did not hinder his progress. He glanced at the sky as he climbed, the clouds rolling in almost above his head. He could see the snow starting to fall over the places that they had already engulfed, pouring more white onto the sleeping town. His brother had seemed to be running from the storm. Now that it was almost above, would Saeyoung be out of time? Would the first flake of frozen rain herald the end of his brother’s life?

There was no answer to that question, and as he scrambled onto the fifth platform he pushed it into the back of his mind. He flexed his hand, shaking it to try and coax some feeling back into it, but it barely responded. The next ladder was across from him, and it scaled in a zigzagging pattern the rest of the way up, no more platforms waiting to give his arm a break. He was already exhausted, every inch of him sore and aching, throbbing to the rhythm of his heart as his body pleaded with him to stop. He wasn’t sure how much farther he would be able to climb before parts of him started to quit, giving out and refusing to move onward. Would it be the next ladder? Would it be inches before he reached the top? Would he follow the potted plant, flipping through the air as he whispered apologies to all the people he hadn’t been able to save?

He couldn’t answer those questions either, so he blew a scalding breath across his fingers and put them on the next ladder. It was missing some of the rungs, but he was able to lift himself over the gaps, grunting as the extra movement flexed the muscles in his chest, pulling the area around his shoulder tighter. It felt like it took an hour, but he got through it. He swung himself over to the next ladder, clenching his jaw as he held on. This one was missing most of the rail on the other side, the rungs extending into empty air. It made the whole thing feel lopsided, like he gripped a piece of unfinished reality that threatened to unravel him if he wasn’t careful. He took his time, every movement calculated, every muscle twitch controlled so that he wouldn’t find out what happened if he touched the unmade part of the ladder.

The wind, with a sense of humor that Saeyoung did not appreciate, did not seem to care about his caution. Another gust slammed into his back, catching the edges of his jacket. It wasn’t much, it wasn’t even as bad as the one that had shaken the whole fire escape, but it was enough to push him a fraction of an inch across a rung. That was all it took for his balance to be thrown to the edge, and his foot flew across the surface of the ice-slicked pipe and into the nothingness that met the shattered end. He lost his grip with his hand, his arm flailing out in surprise even though it should have remained still, instinct working against him in the moment. He started falling backwards, horribly weightless, his fingers meeting nothing as he tried to grab the ladder again.

His other leg kicked out, wrapping around the side of the ladder that still had a rail, halting his fall. He felt the pipe bruise the back of his thigh as his knee twisted around it, his head leaning back as gravity still tried to claim him. His gaze filled with the star strewn sky, their twinkling serene as they watched his frantic plight. For a moment it felt like there was no earth around him, like he had sailed up into space and was floating in the emptiness of the universe. His problems, his pain, the promises that he had to keep, they were all millions of miles away, beyond his reach.

He sucked in a breath and pulled himself back forward, placing his fingers back on the ladder. He didn’t give himself more time to recover, more time to let the fear chip away at his strength. He lifted himself up, and kept moving forward, reaching the end of the ladder and swinging to the last set. This one had a railing, and most of its rungs. He wanted this to be over. He wanted to find out how this part of the story would end. He felt like he had been waiting with bated breath for the entire climb, asking fate if it would let him see this through or not. He had lost his patience with waiting for the answer. He wanted to reach his goal or he wanted to be smashed on the ground, but he didn’t want to sit around in limbo any longer, waiting for the unknown to become known.

He was almost at the top when his jacket snagged on a broken edge of piping. He heard the fabric rip as he tried to pull away, his coat yanking downward as his body tried to rise. It jerked his shoulder, and his vision went black as pain exploded through his body, lancing from his injury and all along his spine. He slammed his teeth down around his tongue to keep from screaming, tasting blood in the back of his throat. He clenched his palm around the rung as the dizziness threatened to make him lose his hold. The wind snapped against his back, his shoulder felt like someone had shoved hot iron beneath his skin, and his fingers were blue and frigid. He pressed his forehead against the metal in front of him, gasping with as little noise as he could manage.

He just wanted it to be over. He just wanted to be on the other side. He just wanted to be strong enough to fix things.

_God, I hope you_ _’re listening. I’m not asking that you take my problems away. I’m not even asking that you forgive me for all the mistakes I’ve made. I just need a little more strength. I just need a little help to see this through. For Saeran. And Nicky. And the RFA. And in Klein’s honor. Just…help me get to the top of this ladder, and I swear I’ll figure out the rest._

He lifted his forehead, looking up into the sky again. The glittering heavens seemed to fill him with warmth, with hope. With the love of those that he knew were cheering for him to succeed. He took a deep breath, lifted his feet, and started climbing again.

He could hardly believe it when he reached the top, but he did. Pulling himself over the edge of the building was awkward and painful, but he _made_ it. He lurched to his feet, his vision blurring as his brain toyed with the idea of making him pass out. Or maybe his vision was blurring because he had a concussion. It was hard to tell which of his injuries was affecting him more.

It took him a second, but after blinking several times he could see Saeran. He was standing on the corner of the rooftop, just at the edge, in front of a flagpole that held no flag, stabbing outward from the building like a spear thrust through the heart of the night. His arms were spread wide, like he was embracing the wind, beckoning it to his chest like a long-lost love. He was a painting, tragic and beautiful, cast in the fading light of the street lamps below, bathed in the shadows of the stars. The storm sent fingers of air through his hair, whipping at the edges of his borrowed clothes so that he swayed with the motions, at one with the elements. Saeyoung could only see the side of his face, but he knew that his smile was wide and peaceful. It broke his heart, that this was the happiest he had ever seen his brother since finding him again.

“Saeran.”

Saeran didn’t seemed surprised to hear his name called, barely flicking his gaze towards his brother. “You found me.” He giggled, a bubbling sound like champagne fizz escaping from the rim of a crystal glass. “Too late. I’ll never go back.”

_Back?_ Saeyoung remembered the conversation that they had run through before Saeran had fled, and he shook his head. “I would _never_ take you back to mom. I would die before I let her find you again.”

“You almost sound like you mean it.” Saeran glanced back, face placid, eyes made of spun glass and fever. 

“I do.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, then lifted his arms higher, looking at them with pride. “Do you see my wings? I’m going to fly.”

Saeyoung couldn’t tell if it was delusion or metaphor, and he wasn’t sure that he cared. “You…no, you don’t have wings. Just, come down from the ledge and talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. All you do is talk. Talk, talk, talk. Or lie. Even if the Savior couldn’t keep her promises, that doesn’t mean you’re not still a liar.” The wind caught his words and carried his voice through the night, a melody trapped in the storm.

“What do you want me to say?” Saeyoung stepped forward, holding his hand out, palm up, begging for anything to go on. “What do you need to hear from me?”

“ _Nothing_.” Saeran dropped his arms, shrugging and indifferent. “I can’t believe you, so it doesn’t matter what you say.”

“Fine.” He clenched his jaw, feeling tears burning in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t know if he was angry or hurt or both, but none of it mattered as long as Saeran got off that ledge. “I promise, you don’t ever have to talk to me again if you just come down.”

“No. I don’t want to come down.” He sounded so pedantic, so matter-of-fact. He looked above them, his eyes filling with reflections of the heavens. “I want to fly. Have you seen the sky tonight, Saeyoung? It’s so full of stars. I’m going to count them.”

Saeran stepped out on the flagpole, sending it bouncing, and Saeyoung let out a strangled cry. There was no more time for talking, no more time for thinking. No more time for apologies or reason, no forgiveness and no forgetting. His brother would hate him for it, but Saeyoung would never let him die. Not if it took everything he had, not if it was the last thing he ever did.

 He ran forward, grabbing him before he could take another step on the precarious metal pole. He yanked him away, throwing them both to the side. He had one terrifying look at the ground below, so much farther than it had seemed when he was staring at the seedling and waxing poetic about Klein. Then the momentum carried them back across the rooftop, and they crashed into the tar-studded paneling. His shoulder shrieked at him, murderously, as they rolled across the rough surface, banging into it from all sides. He screamed, unable to contain the agony, unable to suppress the torture that he had poured onto his body. He screamed, and so did Saeran.

When they came to a stop Saeyoung couldn’t see because his vision was star bursts of light and pain. Saeran’s weight was crushing the air out of his lungs on top of him., making everything heavy and tight. His brother grabbed the collar of his jacket, shaking him with savagery that hurt more than his shoulder, and Saeyoung screamed again for both sources.

“Why?” Saeran’s voice was high and full of desperation, echoing against the stonework around them. “Why won’t you let me go?”

“I can’t.” Saeyoung sobbed, trying to breathe, trying to see, trying to orient himself and think of a way to explain how much he loved his brother. _I_ _’m sorry, it’s all my fault, I love you, please don’t go._ The words wouldn’t form, the air in his lungs wouldn’t push them out. Everything he should have said was trapped inside, crushed beneath his brother’s weight.

“Do you know what it was like? Do you know what I had to live through? Every single day has been torture. I don’t want to have anymore. I want to fly, I want to be alone with the sky. I just want my time on this earth to be _done._ ” Every sentence earned another shake, Saeyoung’s head being slammed against the ground. He could feel it bruise, feel the skin break and his blood start leaking out, the wound where he had hit the car worsening under the onslaught. None of it mattered. He didn’t matter. What mattered was loving his brother. What mattered was saving him.

“You can’t. Saeran, I’ll do _anything,_ but you have to live!”

“You’ll do anything? How about changing the past? How about going back and staying with me? How about staying out of my life when I had found something to believe in?” his voice was a hurricane, tenuous and unstable, Saeran’s resolve unraveling with every request. He wrapped his hands around Saeyoung’s throat, bruising his windpipe, crushing the last of the air out of him with thumbs that shook and trembled. “You want to do something for me? Stop existing. _Die_. That’s what I want you to do. Stop talking, stop breathing, stop _existing_.” His voice grew low and quiet as he strangled Saeyoung, determined and calm.

Saeyoung wrapped his hand around Saeran’s wrist, but he didn’t know if he should struggle or not. Should he fight this? If this was what would make his brother happy, did he have any right to take it from him, after everything he had already done? So many mistakes. So many things that Saeyoung had done, all of them resulting in more suffering for those around him. It didn’t matter why, or how, or what excuses that he had made to keep his sanity over the years, because in the end the truth of it was that he had left Saeran. He had abandoned him to be taken care of by others, and even if things had worked out, even if he had led a happy life, he still would have been left behind. He still would have had to live wondering where his brother had gone. Maybe Saeyoung deserved death for that crime. Maybe it was the only way that Saeran could heal.

_Promise me that you_ _’ll come back to me._

Nicky. He had promised that he would always come back to her. He had sworn that he would be there for her. He had lain awake at night in her arms and imagined all the years they would spend together, all the joy they would share, all the family they would build. He had tried his hardest not to, but he had fallen in love with her anyways, and that meant that he had promised his heart to her. Saeran wasn’t the only one he had to live for, wasn’t the only one that held a piece of his soul. Nicky, the girl that had saved them all from endless misery, had asked for one thing of him: that he return. He didn’t deserve her, he didn’t understand why she loved him, but that didn’t change the fact that she _did_ , and he knew exactly what she would feel if she lost him, because he had felt the same when he had almost lost her. How could he allow that to happen? How could he let her have that pain, when she had already suffered so much?

If he died, then Nicky would be alone, but if he fought back, then Saeran might leave this world because all it held for him was misery. He had made promises to make them both happy, dedicated himself to creating a world that would make them both smile. What was he supposed to do with his heart split in two? What was he supposed to do when their happiness conflicted? If his death would save one and break the other, which path should he choose?

The edges of his vision started to go black as he looked up at Saeran’s tear-stained face, blue eyes tinted with sorrow and anger. He was too tired to fight. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t think he could overpower his brother. Maybe that was a blessing. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. He was always the stronger one, always the one gifted with more time and luck and skill. This was a fitting end for him, then. Saeran could crush the life out of him, and then he could finally stop feeling like the lesser twin. He could finally go be himself, and find a way to be happy. Saeyoung couldn’t fight him off, so he would give him his submission as his final gift, his final apology. He would send his sorrow out through the last beat of his heart, and maybe that would be enough to get through to Saeran, in the end.

_I love you, Nicky. Please, be happier without me, and take care of the RFA._

_I_ _’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough._


	106. Count the Stars, Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeran finds the sky.

A long time ago everything had been quiet. It had been quiet and still, the solitude unbroken beneath the baby blue sky. Above the clouds, above the clamor of the trees in the wind, above the soil that churned beneath the feet of the people; there, it was quiet, and there it was peaceful. He felt as though his fate had been born there, a single crystal of snow clinging to the mountainside, waiting to be summoned by the squalling of a shivering baby boy below. Then he had been born, and the impetus of his existence struck the side of the mountain, targeting his fate with pinpoint accuracy, dislodging it with rash uncertainty that shook too many acres around it.

That was when the snow had started to roll.

Now, here, in the muck and mire of his adulthood, the avalanche he had created with his life came crashing down around him. It was years in the making, another pound of sorrow churning into the tumult with every day that passed. His mother’s fists had been the booms cracking against the horizon, the Savior’s words and deeds nails that bound him in the brunt of the path. He would have chosen none of it, but it had been heaped upon him, inevitable that he should stand in the way of the tide of frigid hatred that God had seen fit to grant him. Death, violence, decaying images of the lies the world held dear. These were the gifts he had been bequeathed. He could trace the destruction from the summit right down to the wasteland at his feet, and in it he saw truth. The truth that he was nothing, that he was no one. The truth that he was meant to destroy everything that he touched. The harshest words had been the truest, and he was proving them by holding the fluttering heartbeat beneath his brazen fingers.

Life. The life he never had. The life that he had missed when it had vanished without a trace. The life that he had pleaded for, crying in the night to the unanswering void. The life that he had chased, tracking through the back alleys of the internet where rumors pointed to the traces of a ghost and little else. The life that he had imitated, living up to standards that he had been told were higher than his own, trying to be worthy to another woman that could never have been the mother he wanted. The life that he had coveted, when he had seen the stars fall in its lap and love far softer than the sun. His brother’s life, inexorably tied to his own, always present even when it was absent. It was this life that he held sway beneath the press of his thumb, bruising the wind of out his throat as his face turned red and purple bloomed around his grip.

He had killed a man once. He could do it again.

His arms were shaking. He could feel Saeyoung’s fingers wrapped around him, but he wasn’t fighting back. He didn’t move. He lay there, cold and warm, alive and dying, allowing Saeran to do as he pleased. Why wasn’t he fighting? Didn’t he know that death was final? Didn’t he know that paradise had always been a lie, set forth by their betters to control them? There was no Savior looming in the darkness to sweep their souls to safety. There was only an end, and then the great wide sky to become lost in.

If Saeyoung died, and Saeran followed, would they be able to count the stars, together?

_Saeran please. Please make them stop hurting him._

What would happen to the stars if they took to the sky? What would happen to the girl that had stolen them to keep them in her eyes? She was starlight and magic, made real and given form by luck more powerful than any he could ever claim for his own. Her laugh was silver spun by moonlight, and he could be robbing the world of its glimmer by killing the man she loved. He had hurt her so many times. He had let others hurt her, in the name of a paradise that had been promised but was always lost. He was doing it again. He was bringing death back to her doorstep again and again, like a mangy cat that dragged carrion beneath brittle jaws overflowing with rot.

The click of the gun in the palm of his hand. Red wine all over the floor, but there was never a cup, it never came from a bottle. Screaming. Endless, aggrieved screaming that never abated and never breathed. He couldn’t find air he couldn’t see he couldn’t shout above the storm. Mint eyes, closed forever, tears in the palm of his hand but _who was crying?_ Heels in the hallway, bruises on his arms. Round and round it went, beating him into different forms of submission, every woman he had ever know lashing out at him for the sins of his father and the sins of his brother and the sins of himself. Violent, savage. He fit wrong in all the places they tried to shove him, and for that they broke him.

Except for her.

_No._ What was she in the face of everything else thrown at him? Her love did not erode the crimes his brother had committed. He squeezed his hands tighter, wanting it to be over. He could not harbor doubts once it was finished. Once that heartbeat stopped pounding against his palm, then they would both be free.

They all deserved better, but the avalanche was too great, and swallowed everything in its path.

Would he feel better when his brother stopped breathing? Would the ache in his chest disappear when the existence of his other half was halted? Is Saeyoung wasn’t alive, he would have no shadow. All that would be left was light and sky, the wondrous expanse of abyss that could swallow him whole. Everything he was had been shaped around everything that he wasn’t, and he would end that cycle. The violence, the resentment, the abandonment. That would all disappear when Saeyoung’s last breath left his lips.

Right?

He still wasn’t struggling. He was almost gone, and he still wouldn’t lift a finger to fight. Saeran didn’t mean to, but he looked into his eyes, his curiosity demanding an explanation even though logic told him it was better to be blind. He looked into the golden depths of his twin’s gaze, and there he found things as innumerable as the stars. Regret, sorrow, shadows that ran deep and lived in indestructible cathedrals in his heart. There were tears, glistening like dewdrops in a midnight meadow. His face was red, but he was not grimacing. He was _smiling._ Smiling with the sad certainty of a man who was giving one last gift to a loved one.

_A loved one._ That was there too, swirling amidst the turmoil of light and life, a font of love that was for Saeran alone. Seeing it was like seeing a ray of sunlight part the clouds, shattering the grey to shed golden warmth on the spot he stood. Through the gap there was peace, there was serenity, and it reminded him of the sky that he cherished so much. The sky that was always above him, always waiting for his gaze with a reliability that could not be shaken by storm or frost or night. Saeyoung was filled with it, overflowing with it, as though he had been granted everything the stars had loved, to hold in his chest and keep safe.

_I see the sky through your eyes._

With that the storm broke. The avalanche stopped. The screaming in his mind fell silent, and he felt the world snap back into place. It was as though he had been trapped behind a mirror, throwing his own hatred back at himself in an image that repeated to infinity. It had been cracking since Saeyoung had faced him in that apartment, and now it shattered into so many pieces that it became dust to fill the sky and emerge as a galaxy of everything he hated about himself, spinning out in space so far away he couldn’t reach it any longer. He could see it, but the gravitational pull no longer controlled him, and he broke free to shoot across the heavens. Reality came rushing back to him, his senses returned, and he was immediately filled with regret.

He let his brother go, rolling off him and curling his arms around his knees. Saeyoung gasped, his starved lungs pulling air through his wrinkled throat, the sound like wet tissue paper rattling in the wind. Saeran couldn’t look at him. He had almost killed him. He had almost killed the one person who had never failed to be kind to him, all for the crime of believing all the same people that Saeran had believed. What had he become? He was so twisted that he didn’t remember how to be anything else but angry, and look what it had made him do. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be this. He wanted to believe…he wanted to have faith in a better way.

He was so tired of feeding the cycle of hate.

He yelped in surprise as an arm wrapped around him, Saeyoung barreling into him from the side and crushing him into a hug. “Thank you.” The words were raspy, choked through the damage Saeran had done to him, and it amplified his guilt.

“Don’t thank me.”

“Saeran, I know I fucked up, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Tears slipped from Saeran’s eyes, pouring unchecked down his cheeks. Who had fucked up? Saeyoung had left, running down the path to a better life on nothing more than faith alone that Saeran would be better for it. Saeran had let his pain fester inside of him until he had become a mindless killer who looked in the face of hope and spat on it. Who was the criminal? Who was the one most wronged? Who was the twin that was most at fault for the sundered fates they had dealt with?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t think they would ever know. For the first time in years he wrapped his arms around his brother, sinking into his embrace without reservation, without ulterior motives. All he wanted was to feel like he hadn’t lost himself, and Saeyoung had been keeping parts of him safe while the world tried to destroyed what was left. As steadfast as the sky, as timeless as the stars. They held each other and wept, shuddering in the cold, trembling from the exertion, finally in accord with their sorrows. Saeran hadn’t known how much he had missed it because the anger blinded him, but now that he had it again, he hoped that it would last a lifetime.

The crunch of gravel beneath a boot was their only warning before both of them were cuffed in the back of the head, sharp knuckles impacting just next to his ear and jolting them out of the moment.

“Ow!” Saeran spoke in unison with his brother, clapping his hand on the spot where she had struck him as he stared up at the tall woman looming over them. She was glaring at them as though trying to set them aflame with just her gaze, and Saeran found something strangely familiar about that. It was also comforting, in a way that he could not comprehend, and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders.

“Vanderwood. How’d you get here?” Saeyoung was grinning at her, somehow smug and sincere all at once.

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, a tazer gun gripped in one hand. “Through the front door. I broke the window, because I’m not a god-damned idiot.”

“So, you followed me.”

“Of course I fucking followed you.” She tossed her hair out of her face, kneeling to face Saeran and ignoring the indignation on his brother’s face. “You okay, Twitch?”

“Him? I’m the one that was -” Saeyoung fell silent as she held the tazer gun out towards him, clicking it on so that electricity buzzed at the end.

Saeran suppressed a laugh, biting the inside of his cheek. “I know you.” He tilted his head to the side, trying to piece together the broken memories. He remembered white sheets, and a book, a warm voice forming words in a language he didn’t understand. Hands on his as he shook the last of the medicine from his bones. He had thought it was a dream. “Maybe.”

She nodded, smirking. “You do. I was with you in the hospital until Saeyoung was well enough to take my place.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that, and so he fell silent, staring at the ground. Still, curiosity got the better of him again, and he peered back at her, meek and shy. “Why?”

She reached her empty hand out and ruffled it over his hair, sending strands scattering in every direction and filling them with static. “Because that’s what you do when you care about somebody.”

“Care about…me?” he blurted the question out like an overexcited bird squawking at shadows, and felt heat creep across his cheeks. So, he had gone from furious to bumbling fool. Murder to dunce. Was there no existence that would not case him embarrassment?

Saeyoung threw his arm around him again, grinning like an idiot. “The whole RFA cares about you. We’ve all been waiting for you to start feeling better, so you could meet everyone.”

Saeran looked at his brother, then back at the woman, flitting his gaze between them. Skepticism was too tame a word to describe how he felt about such a statement. The world didn’t seem so fuzzy anymore, the edges around things not so sharp, not so hostile, but he still wasn’t sure what was real. His brother _seemed_ sincere. His brother seemed solid and jovial. It felt like the words carried meanings that were not spoken just to lead him into a false sense of security…

But he was still afraid. He was afraid of being part of this world that didn’t fade away every time he blinked. He was frightened of the warmth in the arm around him, of the hope threading through his veins more potent than the drugs had ever been. His heart beat against his ribs, and he felt like his throat was drying out, a desert of apprehension forming at the top of his chest. What if he was wrong again? What if he had calmed only to be thrown back to the storm? They were smiling now, but what if he mistook the wolf’s snarl for a grin, and when his back was turned the fangs would find him again?

He met the woman’s gaze, and she didn’t smile. She didn’t frown or glare, but looked at him with perfect honesty that spoke volumes that could not be recorded with mere words and phrases. “Listen. You don’t trust your brother yet, and that’s fine. He’s an idiot, anyways. But you can trust me. I promise I won’t ever lie to you, not even to be nice. So when I tell you that you have a whole sappy family waiting for you, you know you can believe me.”

It was the disdain in the way she talked about their sappiness that sold him. It had to be real if it was disgusting her that much, and he related to the sentiment more strongly than he had anticipated. He believed her, and he was filled with awe as he absorbed what she had said. One word stood out to him, shining like a beacon through the night, guiding him to a place that he hadn’t though existed. He swallowed, more tears breaking free from his lashes to tumble to the ground.

“Family?”

She chuckled, smirking once again. “Yeah, family. This time without any fucking strings attached.” She stood, then held out her hand to him. He waited for a moment, studying her posture like a rabbit judging a lion, but he couldn’t detect anything dangerous in the cant of her hips or the tilt of her head. She was framed by the sky, the stars tucked beneath the blanket of clouds that were starting to drop sheets of white down onto them. He shivered, his loose clothes beginning to feel thinner now that he wasn’t simmering with loathing. He took her hand and stood, his legs shaking more than he had thought they would. She let him grab her arm to steady herself, making no mention of his weakness, no hint of repulsion for his ineptitude. She waited until he was steady before she let him go, then offered the same hand to Saeyoung. It took more effort to get him off the ground, and now that the fervor had passed Saeran could see him wince in pain as he moved. Guilt filtered through his thoughts, and he wondered if shame was better or worse than the anger. It felt less savage, less all-consuming, and he appreciated that. He still had thoughts that felt like his own beneath his regrets, even if the regrets were very loud.

“Jesus, look at you.” The woman clicked her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head. “Why the fuck would you try to climb like that?”

Saeyoung looked at her with a sullen pout. “Why didn’t you stop me? If you were gonna break into the building you could have done it before I scaled seven stories.”

“Would you have listened?”

His pout turned into a scowl, and Saeran could tell the bitterness came from the fact that they all know she was right. “You could have _tried_.”

“I know your stupid ass better than that.” She rolled her eyes, taking a step towards the door that led to the stairs inside the building. “Come on, everybody is waiting at the hospital.”

Saeyoung bristled as he followed her, and Saeran trailed after him, unsure of what else to do. “I’m not that hurt.”

“First of all, yes you are. You sound like a fucking cicada is stuck in your neck, and you’re turning purple. Also, probably concussed, considering you rammed your head into a car and a rooftop this evening. And your arm is all jacked again. Second of all, they didn’t go there for you.”

“Wait, what?”

“They had to take Nicky after the police were done talking to her.”

Saeyoung grabbed her coat, stopping her as she reached for the door. “ _What?_ _”_

“Chill out, it was just standard procedure, she’s…” she took in his stunned panic, then slapped her palm onto her forehead, dragging it down across her face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, do I have to do everything around here? Didn’t anybody tell you what happened?”

“She just sent me a message saying she was on her way!”

The woman let out a string of curse words that Saeran couldn’t even follow with how fast they tumbled from her mouth. “Come one, Richie Rich sent a car, I’ll explain on the way there.” She reached out and grabbed a sleeve from each of them, dragging them forward and into the stairwell.

Saeran didn’t struggle. Not against her guidance, and not against the peace filling his chest. He felt like he had finally found the sky. He had found that blue calm, inside himself just like she had said it would be, and now he could think clearly again. He had been released from chains of festering hatred that had been wrapped around him since he could first remember, and all that was left was…himself. He didn’t know who he was, or what he was supposed to do with his newfound freedom, but he felt like he had time to decide. He was no longer nailed to the cross as the avalanche bore down on him. He was no longer trapped in the storm as the wind tore away his sanity.

He had been saved. Saved by the love in his brother’s eyes, just like he had dreamed of as a little boy. He had touched the sky, and it had filled him, love and hope finally driving away the madness. Now together they could climb back down, to find the place where the sunlight had grown a family, and maybe someday Saeyoung would show him how it was that he had learned to love the stars without knowing their number.

Or maybe they could count them together, _with_ their family, because that’s what you did when you cared about someone.


	107. Filled with Light and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Saeyoung and Nicky reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a very long note at the end of this chapter, and for anybody who is interested in seeing more about MM from me, you might want to read it. ^^

They’d taken her coat as “evidence”, so she sat in the lobby of the hospital with Aleks’ jacket wrapped around her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered to protest, because the look on his face when he handed it to her told her that there was no argument in the universe that would convince him to allow her to refuse the gesture. He was as stubborn as Jumin. They were perfect for each other.

She was exhausted in a way that she didn’t think was physically possible without being on death’s door. It settled into her bones, becoming part of her, so that she felt as though she would never feel energized again. Someone - she couldn’t remember who - had brought her a cup of coffee, and she hoped that whoever it was knew that she loved them. She had been sipping at it for the past few minutes as she sat in the uncomfortable chair, parts of her aching in ways that she couldn’t describe. The others had arrived not long after Vanderwood had sent out a flurry of messages telling them that Saeran had been found. She wouldn’t elaborate on the details, but by her word the brothers were both safe. With that crises considered temporarily settled, it had left the rest of the RFA free to fuss over her, which had been touching, but also overwhelming.

Talking about what happened was difficult. She knew that she would need to, but her mind hadn’t even wrapped around the fact that it had occurred, and repeating it over and over was a chore she couldn’t stomach. It was nightmare enough recounting it to the police, but when faced with the worried faces of her dearest friends she had found it unbearable. She had frozen, sinking into a mire of panic that wouldn’t let her draw breath, wouldn’t allow her lips to move. She knew how much it would upset them to hear it, and she didn’t want to be the one who delivered the news. She didn’t want the responsibility of making them feel as awful as she did. She just wanted to disappear, to hide from it all until she didn’t feel like the cracks in her heart were grating against each other, keeping her from thinking straight.

When Jumin had stepped in to speak for her, she had almost collapsed in relief.

The story had been told, she had been hugged about a hundred times, Zen had made several threats towards Capalli that were seconded by the rest of them, and gradually they had gone quiet as they gathered together in the waiting room. She had one hand cradled around the warm cup of coffee, and the other was clasped with Jaehee’s, who seemed to need the contact as much as Nicky herself did. It was bracing, it was calming. It was a small piece of sanity that she could cling to while her mind whirled with worry. She felt like she had lived a thousand years in a single night, and all the while Saeyoung had been out there fighting for his brother while she had been lost in darkness. Was he okay? Had this trial broken him in ways that would have changed him? Would he return to her full of shadows that would drive him to turn away again?

The doors to the hospital slid open on their automatic tracks, and everyone in their group glanced up at once. Her breath stuck in the back of her throat, her heart snapped against her ribs. Someone took the cup of coffee out of her hands, but she barely felt it.

She stood as he ran in, his eyes darting around the room until they came to rest on her. Tears burned in her gaze before she had even blinked as she looked him over. He was as pale as a ghost, with livid purple bruises decorating his neck, amethysts angled into the curve of his skin. The whole world froze around them, spinning to a halt as they cherished the sight of one another, eyes wide, hearts full. Alive, defiant to any other alternative.

Then they were both running, rushing into each other’s arms. They collided in the middle of the room, and as she wrapped her arms around him he claimed her lips, pressing his hand into the small of her back. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet, nothing had ever tasted so much like victory. It was the blissful kiss of hope and adoration, of two souls meeting that were so intertwined that no force could ever keep them apart. They had fought, they had been broken, they had been dashed against the winds of fate and wrung out of all their strength, and they had persevered through it all for this moment, for this span of time where they could pour their feelings into one another. There was no doubt, no hesitation. She could no longer feel the pain of her injuries or the concern that had been gnawing at her nerves for hours. She was no longer the lonely girl who considered death a welcome change, no longer the girl that was used and cast aside. Now she was Nicky, the musician, the party planner of the RFA, and in love with the only man that she had ever been meant to be with. There was no other, and there never had been. There was no universe in which she would not love him.

When they had to breathe again they pulled away with languid reluctance, both of them tear-stained and smiling. He brushed his thumb across the split in her lip, his eyes filling with sorrow as he gazed at her.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

She laughed, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of her chest. “I was going to say the same thing to you.” She shifted her arm, to brush her fingers around the patches of bruise deepening on his throat. She could see the parts where fingers had crushed his skin, and she realized he had been in more danger than she had known. “Are you alright?”

“Are _you?_ ” his eyebrow quirked upward, and that was enough of an answer to her question, so she laughed again.

“I will be. I’m much better now.”

He smiled and kissed her again, slower this time, letting their feelings burn between them like the low wicks of well used candles, flame dancing just at the edge of the molten wax. When he pulled back she drew her arms tighter around him, resting her chin on his shoulder and reveling in the way it felt to know that he was okay. As battered as she was herself, but still smiling, still holding her while his heart beat in rhythm with her own. Still hers.

She picked up movement out of the corner of her eye, and her gaze followed it to the source. Saeran was standing in the doorway with Vanderwood, looking around the room with wide eyes.

He didn’t look angry. The broiling fury that had consumed him every other time that she had seen him was no longer there, replaced with fear and trepidation. She could see his nervous energy in his slouched posture, in the way he clenched and unclenched his fingers. He looked at each of them in turn, like they were exotic creatures that he had never seen before, like he wanted to bolt from the room and hide from their scrutiny. Vanderwood had a hand resting on his shoulder, keeping him in place with gentle fortitude.

Nicky pulled back, looking at Saeyoung, asking if Saeran was okay with a wordless question. His response was to smile and wrap his arm around her waist, guiding her over to his brother.

“Saeran, allow me to formally introduce you to my girlfriend, Nicky.” He sounded so proud as he spoke that she had to suppress a laugh, pressing her lips together before she remembered the split, then wincing as it caused them to sting all over again.

Saeran glared at his twin, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. I know who she is.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never _really_ introduced yourself.”

Saeran rolled his eyes. “I’ve known her longer than you have, you know.”

“What?” Saeyoung’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Oh, you mean as Unknown? That totally doesn’t count.”

Vanderwood made choked noise in the back of her throat. “Jesus, they really are brothers.” She shook her head and walked away, leaving the three of them some semblance of privacy as she strolled over to Jumin.

Saeran turned to face Nicky, ignoring Saeyoung’s good natured pout. He looked her up and down, his eyes resting on all the places where she knew she was bruised or cut or otherwise exhibiting proof of what she had gone through. The worry that settled over his face was not the same vague concern that he had shown for her previously. It was not distant, as though his thoughts had always been at war with the fog in his mind and kept them from his reach. This was clear. It was honest. It was one hundred percent _his._

“You’re hurt.” He bit his lip, as though ashamed of the words, staring at the floor.

She skipped forward, throwing herself into him and wrapping her arms around him. She pulled him into the biggest hug that she could muster, overflowing with happiness that the shadows hadn’t gotten to him, that he had been able to fight them off. She was so proud of him for having the courage to keep going, so proud of him for standing there with them even though he was scared. She was so proud that he had lived.

He was surprised by her affection, stumbling back for a second, unsure what to do.

“You found the sky.” She murmured the words over the side of his shoulder, and with them she felt him relax, placing his hands on her back to return the embrace.

“I did.” She could hear the smile in his voice, and it made her so happy.

She let him go and stepped back, and Saeyoung barely let him breathe before he grabbed his hand and dragged him over to start introducing him to the others. Saeran didn’t fight it, he didn’t rail against his brother’s touch, he didn’t shout or scream or recede away. Whatever had happened between them tonight had pulled him from the shores of madness, broken the hold that his past had on him so that he could open his eyes to the present. He would always have scars, but that was no different than the rest of them. They were all damaged by the way life had treated them, but that’s what made them stronger. That’s what made them appreciate how they felt about each other, what made the bonds that they had formed unbreakable.

Bound by fate and suffering, they had taken that molded it into something better, something more wonderful than they could have ever aspired to before. They had made the RFA a home for all of them, and they had fought to keep it safe. Now they stood, tall and happy, leaning on each other for support in all things. Nothing could be better. Nothing could make her happier. Rika’s Fundraising Association would live on as the family it should have always been, and Nicky would get to be a part of it.

Though perhaps they should find another name for the group as they moved forward, all things considered.

She smiled to herself as she joined the others, letting Saeyoung pull her in close as they stood with them. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, and she leaned against his shoulder, letting him ease the fatigue in her bones. Filled with light and love, she could finally get some rest.

They all could, and it was well deserved for each one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like now is as good a time as any to make a few announcements. We’re almost at the end of this story, and I can hardly believe it. Before we start wrapping things up, though, I wanted to let you guys know I have a lot more things to say about these characters. 
> 
> First thing’s first, there will be a small “surprise” fic that I will be writing that doesn’t count as much of a prequel or sequel, but something in between. I don’t want to spoil too much about it, but if you are a fan of Aleks and his relationship with Jumin, then you will want to keep your eye out for this story. I’m taking a small break to finish up a personal project, but once that’s done I’m diving right back in to this, and will work on this side story first.
> 
> Also, I am absolutely writing that prequel that I have talked about before. The title is “Seeds in a Garden”, and you can look forward to it right after the side story is done. I’m actually already working on it in between the chapters for this fic, so we will be hitting the ground running.  
> Lastly, I am also planning a sequel. There were a lot of loose ends that I couldn’t wrap up in this story, and a lot of questions that I wanted to answer. The more I thought about it, the more story ideas I got, and so another story was born. “Thicker Than Water” will be the title, and I will start working on it as soon as I finish “Seeds in a Garden”. 
> 
> If you want notified when these get posted, you can:  
> A) subscribe to me as an author here on AO3  
> B) follow me on tumblr  
> C) subscribe to this fic, as I will go ahead and update with a new “chapter” to give links and let people know about them.  
> D) stare at the most recent page for the MM fandom until your eyeballs dry out, refreshing until you see one of them pop up. (I would not recommend this method, personally, but you do you). 
> 
> If you DON’T want to be notified, then that’s cool, thank you for reading this story, and I still totally love you. ^_^
> 
> Anyways, I’m off to start writing the end to As Bright as the Stars. I’ll cry about THAT during the notes on the epilogue, for sure. 
> 
> Thanks for listening to me ramble about upcoming projects, and I hope you guys will enjoy them at least a fraction of the amount I enjoy writing them.


	108. Skyward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a great battle.

She stole a fry off Saeyoung’s plate, dipping it in his ketchup and winking at him. She popped the pilfered morsel into her mouth, grinning as he pretended to be offended. Across the table, Aleks and Zen bickered about something related to acoustics in theaters, while the others followed their conversation with interest levels ranging from mild to confused. Nicky was preoccupied with Saeyoung’s hand beating a nervous rhythm on her knee, his touch enough to hold her attention away from the benign conversation, so she let herself be absorbed in his gaze, everything else fading away. He mimed indignation for her theft, reaching over to pluck a fry off his brother’s plate as though he needed to balance the cosmic scale of fried potatoes. Saeran, with lightning speed and accuracy, slapped the back of his wrist, grinning when his brother yelped and snatched his hand away.

“Ow!” his eyebrows drew together over the bridge of his nose as he rubbed the sting from his skin. Saeran, with an expression as smug as the Cheshire cat, lifted his plate and extended it directly beneath Saeyoung’s nose, offering the contents to her. She giggled as she took a fry, leaning in close to her love as she ate it.

“Mmmm.” She hummed approval, drawing the sound out as much as possible, even though the fry was long cold and in desperate need of more salt. Saeyoung’s eyes flashed with hunger before he dipped his head down, kissing her in retaliation, just like she knew he would. His hand flew to her hip, pulling her towards him so that she almost fell out of her chair, his fingers digging into the fabric there like he wanted to rend it to shreds. If they hadn’t been in public, she might have let him. She heard Saeran make a noise of utter disgust from his place at the table, and when Saeyoung released her so that they could both breathe again, his brother was turned towards Vanderwood.

“How do their lips not fall off? The literally never stop.” He leaned back in his chair, as bitter as licorice, though when she grinned at him he returned the gesture warmly with one of his own.

Vanderwood rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. “Trust me, we know. We’ve all had to spend more than five minutes with them.”

Jumin cleared his throat, prompting them to fall silent as he folded his hands in front of him on the table, catching their eyes one by one. They were all gathered tonight, every member of the RFA in one place, celebrating the new year and holding the first official meeting of 2017. They had been at the restaurant for an hour already, eating a meal of way too many kinds of fried food, but there was no rush to leave. Jumin had paid so that they had a room all to themselves, which was for the RFA’s security as much as it was to keep them from disturbing the other patrons. It turned out that they were a rowdy bunch when they were all in the same room, which surprised no one and delighted Nicky. She smiled at Jumin, letting him know that he had her full attention as she settled under Saeyoung’s arm when he threw it around her shoulders. All eyes in the room rested on their organization’s leader, which seemed to be the signal he had been waiting for to continue.

“I want to thank all of you for coming this evening -”

“You said it was mandatory.” Yoosung was smirking as he spoke, teasing the formal man on purpose, and she watched Jumin stifle a sigh, his shoulders sagging a fraction of an inch.

“Why? Were you going to ditch us, Ducky?” she quirked an eyebrow at him, enjoying the look of horror that overtook his features.

“I didn’t say that!”

Saeyoung clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Yoosung doesn’t love us anymore. All grown up and disregarding all seven of his parents.”

“Maybe because you won’t stop harassing him?” Vanderwood’s tone was acrid, but her expression was affectionate as she looked at her long-time compatriot.

Saeran snorted. “They harass him because he’s gullible.”

Zen choked on a sip of his drink in response, setting down the glass as he tried to recover. “Damn, he caught on fast.” Saeran rolled his eyes, but seemed pleased by the compliment beneath his carefully constructed affectation of disdain.

“I’m not gullible!” Yoosung wrinkled his nose. “I’m just…I’m…”

“Trusting!” Anna bounced in her seat as she spoke, her face alight with enthusiasm.

“Yeah!” Yoosung took her hand, nodding enthusiastically as he turned to Saeyoung. “You’re abusing my trust.”

Nicky pouted at him. “Aw, I’m sorry Yoosung.”

“Not you! I meant Saeyoung.”

Saeyoung sniffed, closing his eyes and straightening his posture. “I have done nothing wrong. Ever.”

Everyone at the table stopped moving, staring at him in disbelief as a pall of silence fell around them. He opened his eyes, looking nonplussed at their reaction, and she raised her eyebrow at him, holding back her laughter with an incredible amount of self-restraint.

“What?”

The response was swift and merciless as he was pelted with dozens of cold fries, launched by everyone present at the table. Saeyoung started laughing, holding up his hands in resignation as he tried to keep the errant spuds from falling into the folds of his jacket. A couple of them landed in her hair, and he shrugged in apology as he helped her try and fish them out.

Jumin sighed, extending a long-suffering gaze towards the ceiling as he spoke. “Please stop throwing food.”

“So childish.” Aleks smirked as he tossed another fry, this one aimed at his boyfriend. Jumin glared at him, which prompted him to lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek to settle him.

Jumin rolled his eyes, a faint hue of pink appearing across his nose. “As I was saying, I’m glad everyone could make it. We _do_ have some things to discuss, however, so I would like to get started.”

“So official sounding.” Zen drawled. “I feel like I’m at a business meeting.”

Jaehee blinked, looking from Zen to Jumin. “Oh, should I take notes then?”

“No, stop it, you’re not at work.” Zen wrapped an arm around her possessively, as though he was prepared to ward off anything resembling her job with his bare hands if necessary.

“Actually, Jaehee, that would be helpful, since this discussion isn’t being automatically saved in the chat logs.” Jumin nodded towards her, appreciative of the idea.

Zen glowered at him. “She isn’t your assistant right now.”

“She _offered,_ and being a part of this organization does entail work. Not that you would know.” Jumin chose that moment to pick up his glass of wine, taking a sip and avoiding Zen’s furious gaze.

“Are you implying I don’t work for the RFA?” his voice rose as his eyes narrowed.

Jaehee waved her hand, distracting him even though she wasn’t paying full attention to the two men’s clash. “Zen, honestly, I don’t mind. It’s just notes.”

Zen puffed out his cheeks, dissatisfied but defeated. “Fine. _Just notes._ ”

“It’s cute that he’s so defensive of her.” Yoosung placed his chin in his free hand, smirking at the actor.

“I’m not cute, I’m -”

Jaehee set her notepad on the table, turning and kissing Zen with urgency to force him into silence. She pulled back, placing her hand on the side of his cheek as he gave her a dopey grin. “You are many wonderful things, love, but at the moment you’re mostly disruptive.”

Nicky burst into a round of giggles, which set everyone else off in short order. Zen turned a shade of red that belonged to sunsets, sinking lower into his chair with a grumble under his breath that she couldn’t hear.

Aleks bat his eyelashes at Jumin, clearing his throat. “Jumin, dear, you were saying something important, I believe?”

“Yes.” Jumin nodded curtly. “The first order of business I would like to discuss…is our name. Some of you have expressed interest in changing the name of Rika’s Fundraising Association to something more apt, considering everything that has happened.”

Yoosung frowned. “I don’t think we should change it. Rika was still the one that made it, and I think we owe it to her to honor her hard work.”

Saeyoung drew in a measured breath. “I, in particular, do not owe Rika anything.”

“He has a point.” Zen tilted his head, considering the situation. “Would it make you uncomfortable to keep her name tied to the group?”

“I’m not sure.” He shrugged, then turned to Saeran. “What about you?”

Saeran fidgeted in his seat, his eyes moving to the tabletop and locking in place there. “No. Maybe. I don’t care.”

She watched the doubt and shadows creep over him, his shoulders hunching as he tried to disappear in plain sight. He had come quite a long way in a couple of weeks, adjusting to being around all of them and accepting that they cared for him, but he still had trouble being honest about his opinions. He shied away from expressing himself, because in the past it had only brought him pain. He preferred to be a wallflower, observing them without enacting any changes. Except with Saeyoung, of course, who he enjoyed teasing incessantly. She was glad that she got to spend so much time at Saeyoung’s place with just the three of them, because she could get to know Saeran’s personality much better that way.

She leaned over, across Saeyoung, and spoke to Saeran in a low voice that only the two brothers would be able to hear. “If it bothers you, then you can say so.”

“I don’t want to argue.” He chewed on his lower lip, his fingers fiddling with a frayed piece of string on his sweater. “It’s not my organization.”

“It _is._ ” She made the affirmation as robust as she could while still whispering, hoping that he would believe her. “You’re becoming an official member tonight, and you have every right to express your opinion on the issue. Do you want to honor Rika, or distance yourself from her?”

He was quiet as he weighed the options she had presented him. She knew that he was still very conflicted when it came to Rika, and that mention of her would usually send him running in the other direction, sometimes literally. He was angry with her, for a lot of good reasons, but he had spent years trying his best to please her, devoting himself to her. She had been his surrogate mother, and that complicated the way he felt about her long after she had left his side. Nicky didn’t know if Saeran would ever be able to move past those feelings, either. He would have no closure from her, no way to tell her how he felt and divulge himself of the tangled mess his emotions created. Rika was lost in her own head, and could never hear him out. Nicky hoped that therapy with Ash could help him work through everything, but there were some things that just couldn’t be resolved alone.

“Right now?” Saeran sighed, resigned with whatever thoughts were running through his head. “Distance. At least for now.”

Nicky nodded, returning to her place in the crook of Saeyoung’s arm. “I think we should change it. Yes, Rika founded it, and I’m not saying that we should forget about her, or dismiss the work that she did. However, the RFA has changed a lot since Rika left it, and I think we should find a name that reflects that.”

Saeyoung was looking at her like she had just proposed a workable solution to bring about world peace, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. He was always surprised when she showed kindness to Saeran, no matter how commonplace it became. Saeran was often caught off guard by it as well, though he was beginning to get used to it and stop suspecting her of having ulterior motives. Both brothers had expected her to hold more grudges, but she had never been able to look at Saeran and see him as a villain that was responsible for the pain heaped on them all. If anything, everything that they had been through had taught her that there were no villains. Just people that could have been better if they’d been given help instead of harm.

She wanted to be the person that would always offer help, no matter who it was.

Aleks cleared his throat. “Well said, Nicky. I never knew Rika, and so I will defer to Jumin’s judgment on this matter.” He looked at Jumin, and they shared a moment of tenderness between them that melted Nicky’s heart on their behalf. “I’ll be happy if you’re happy.”

“Thank you. I agree with Nicolette. How many others are in favor?” Jumin glanced around the room, prompting them for their vote with wordless expectation.

One by one the hands of everyone at the table drifted upward. Everyone but Yoosung and Anna. Finally, Anna joined the rest of them, and Yoosung looked at her in astonishment, traces of hurt swimming in his wide eyes.

A pretty blush crept across her face as she shrugged apologetically. “I think…it’s just that…” she bit her lip, trapped between fear of what she had to say and the determination to say it. “After everything that happened with Rika, I think it’s better for you if this isn’t about her anymore. I know I didn’t know her for very long, or the way that you did, but I promise I won’t forget her. Neither will you, or anyone else here. She will be remembered, but remembering isn’t what this association is about.”

Yoosung’s resistance crumbled like a shoddy sandcastle, Anna’s sincerity the rising tide that washed it away. He sighed, wrapping an arm around her before leaning in to kiss her. He turned to face the rest of them, smiling weakly. “Alright, what do we change it to?”

The quiet that descended upon them was profound, their heads sinking as they each pondered the question. What could they change it to? What could they be? The RFA had been Rika’s construction from the very beginning, her influence affecting them even after she had disappeared from their lives. It had been a place dedicated to her ghost when Nicky had arrived, but now it was something indestructible, something that belonged to all of them in different ways. They had been through hell and back, and Nicky felt like their new name should reflect that. It should be something that represented not only what they stood for, but how far they had come, and how far they could still go if they remembered to support one another. They had risen to new heights as a team, and Nicky thought they should have a name that would remind them to keep climbing even higher.

“Skyward.” Saeran mumbled the word, but it was loud and clear in the silence spread amongst them. She held her breath, letting the perfection of it fill her chest with excitement.

“Skyward?” Yoosung echoed it, his eyebrows rising towards his hair. “Skyward Fundraising Association?”

Aleks nodded, impressed. “Poetic. With a good ring to it.”

“It does have a certain…pleasing quality, doesn’t it?” Jumin tapped his finger against his chin, looking at Saeran thoughtfully.

Zen rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just say you like it?”

Jumin deadpanned. “I like it.”

“Was that so hard?” Zen sneered, and Jumin sighed in exasperation, shaking his head.

Saeyoung snapped his fingers, grinning broadly. “Well, I think it’s perfect.”

“Skyward Fundraising Association. Ever upward, until we reach the stars.” The words tumbled out of her lips before she had a chance to think them through, but they were fitting, so she let them hang. She looked at Saeran, his eyes lighting up with joy and pride, which made everyone present smile.

“All those in favor?” Jumin had his hand in the air before he even posed the question, and everyone else’s shot up in rapid fire succession. Jumin nodded. “Then it’s official. We are now the SFA.” They started clapping, and Vanderwood slapped Saeran on the back. He turned a blissful shade of pink, elated that they had taken his suggestion.

She leaned across Saeyoung, reaching over to tug at Saeran’s sleeve so that she had his attention. “You’re very good with words, you know.”

“Oh?” he looked shocked, his blush deepening. “I just…it was just the first thing I thought of.” She gave him another warm smile, as proud as she could have been of him. He had found the sky, which meant finding peace, and in turn they had all risen higher. It was fitting that he named them, and even more fitting because of the name that he chose. Perhaps now he would start feeling as though he belonged amongst them, just as Nicky and Saeyoung wanted him to feel.

Jumin clapped his hands together to draw their attention again. “Alright, with that out of the way, we should also take a moment to welcome our newest members. Saeyoung, will their login access be ready soon?”

“Ya, should be good to go tonight. I’ll send everybody the app once we get back home.” He winked at Saeran, which made him roll his eyes, which made Vanderwood glower and the rest of them snicker.

“Did you fix my username yet?” Vanderwood narrowed her gaze, and Saeyoung grinned wider.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jumin plunged forward before they could be sucked into another argument on the matter, ignoring Vanderwood’s scowl. “Saeran, Anna, and of course, Aleks.” He smiled generously at each of them, the most doting of which was reserved for Aleks. “On behalf of all the SFA, I would like to formally welcome you as fully fledged members.”

There was another round of applause, with Zen sticking his fingers in his mouth to whistle loud enough that it echoed around the small room. Yoosung pressed a kiss to Anna’s cheek, and Jumin followed the example, taking Aleks by the hand and dropping a lingering kiss onto his lips. This prompted Saeyoung to lean into his brother, grabbing his head and smacking his lips into his temple. Saeran groaned, shoving his brother away and wiping at the spot irritably as Nicky laughed, pulling Saeyoung back into his seat. She kissed his jaw before resting her head in the crook of his neck, listening to his heartbeat and letting it remind her that all of this was real.

“Now, we are slated to hold our next party at the end of February.” Jumin’s tone brought their undivided attention back to him, the moment of revelry over as there was apparently still more business to attend to. “Nicolette, will you be able to contact our guests in time to inform them of the new name? I don’t want any confusion.”

She nodded. “Totally. I can have it done by the end of this week.”

“So fast!” Yoosung looked awed, which made her feel silly.

“It’s just emails.” She waved her hand to dismiss his reaction.

Anna shuddered. “I couldn’t talk to so many people. That would be so nerve wracking!”

“I would find it more tiresome than anything.” Jaehee looked as though she was exhausted just considering it.

Aleks chuckled. “People are not so difficult. It is _idiots_ that drain patience.”

“That’s why I prefer machines.” Anna smirked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “If a machine is an idiot, at least you can turn it off.”

“Agreed.” Saeyoung slapped his hand on the table, making the glasses rattle.

Saeran jumped at the sound, then glared at him from the corner of his eye. “Someone should turn you off.”

“I’d rather they turn me -” Saeyoung stopped short as she tugged on his earlobe, too late to stop him from speaking in the first place, but in time to keep him from finishing the joke. She wasn’t fast enough to keep Zen from hearing it, though, and he was scowling.

“I hate you.”

Saeran smirked, looking at his brother. “Same.”

Nicky sighed. “Boys.” She was gratified when the three of them muttered apologies, avoiding her gaze.

“So, I dislike being the one to bring this delicate subject to our attention,” Jaehee tapped her pen against the paper, unusually jittery, “but what do we intend to auction at the party, since V’s photographs are no longer an option?”

Jumin and Yoosung grinned at one another in a way that made the hair on the back of Nicky’s arms stand on end. Aleks noticed it as well, and he met her eyes across the table.

“I do not like that look. That look always means trouble.”

Saeyoung snickered. “ _Already_ giving each other looks. My, my.”

Aleks snorted, raising an eyebrow. “You should see the looks he gives when no one’s watching.” Jumin turned a deep shade of red, and he did indeed give Aleks an impressive look that was undeniably both a threat and a promise.

Zen sighed. “Everyone is gross and I hate you all.”

Saeran smirked. Again. “Same.”

“Whatever,” Yoosung dismissed them all, bouncing in his seat. “Jumin, just tell them about our idea.”

“Yes, well. We wanted to keep in the theme of auctioning off art, because we felt that it was an important part of what the R…SFA has always represented.”

Yoosung jumped in to continue as Jumin slipped over the altered name. “But since we don’t have any visual artists anymore, we were confused for a bit about how we could get something artistic to offer the guests.”

“However, Yoosung pointed out that the value of a performance can be just as high as the value of a physical creation.” Jumin had an expression on his face that was, to Nicky, very devious, which filled her with unease.

“Oh, I do not like where this is going…” she squirmed in her seat, so Saeyoung wrapped his arm closer around her.

Aleks was looking at Jumin, his eyes narrowed. “I have a feeling I am about to agree with you, Nicky.”

“We happen to have three very talented performers in our group. So, Jumin thought that maybe we could auction off musical performances!” Yoosung was utterly oblivious to their apprehension.

Nicky recoiled, trying to sink further into her seat. “Nobody in their right mind is going to _pay_ to see me perform!” Saeyoung’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and he pressed his lips against her ear.

“Shh, don’t panic, love. They wouldn’t have thought of it if they didn’t have confidence in you.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to remind herself that the entire point of going to music school had been to get to a point like this. Still, was she ready? Could she truly count herself worthy enough to stand with such monumental talents as Zen the rising star and Aleks the genius pianist?

Zen leaned forward, tapping his finger against his chin. “So, what, are we just going to charge admission price for the party and throw a concert?”

Jumin shook his head. “I would prefer to encourage something less predetermined. After all, enticing the guests to compete for ownership of the photographs was what drove the donation amounts higher.”

“So you offer them choices.” Aleks was looking at Jumin like he had draped miracles across the sky, his smile bemused and impressed.

“Exactly!” Jumin took Aleks’ hand, lacing their fingers together as he glowed with pride. “We offer them a selection of _possible_ performances, and ask them to donate in honor of their preferred show. At the end of the evening, the most popular option becomes the entertainment.”

“That’s…quite clever, actually. We should have thought of it sooner.” Jaehee adjusted her glasses, nodding in agreement as her eyes whirred with calculation and strategy. Nicky could tell she was already planning the logistics.

Saeran chuckled. “You _were_ a bit preoccupied.” His joke made Vanderwood choke on her drink, which made Anna and Yoosung start giggling in response.

Nicky cleared her throat, wishing that it were that easy to clear her nerves. “I think it’s a great idea for Zen and Aleks, but -”

Zen rounded on her, reaching across the table to aim a finger in her direction. “Shut it, and accept the fact that you’re just as talented as either of us, and you’re definitely not getting out of it.”

She felt her cheeks heat up like the room was filled with fire, and Saeyoung pulled her closer, kissing her jaw and looking proud of her. She wanted to say something…anything. To Saeyoung, to the rest of them. She wanted to thank them for believing in her, for supporting her, for thinking that she was capable of ranking alongside them. She wanted to tell them that it meant the world to her. That it gave her strength to try and be the person that they thought she was. She wanted to tell them that she loved them, but every time she tried to move her lips to form words all that came out were strangled sounds of joy. Tears burned behind her eyes, and she blinked them away, opting to smile as widely and brightly as she could.

“I’ll do my best, I promise.”

Aleks winked at her, then sighed. “I suppose it is good to make myself useful somehow.”

“Good, then we’re in agreement. Jumin, this might be the only good idea you’ve ever had.” Zen grinned, flipping his hair over his shoulder and leaning back in his seat.

Jumin frowned at him, but before he could initiate another squabbling match, Jaehee cut them off. “Anything else that needed to be discussed?” she finished the note that she was writing with a flourish, looking at Jumin expectantly.

“No, I think that was everything. Did anyone else have business they wanted to be addressed?”

There was silence for a moment, and in that time she found at least some of her words, so Nicky reached out and grabbed her drink, lifting it high into the air. “Here’s to a happy, prosperous year for the Skyward Fundraising Association.”

Glasses were raised, and a chorus of “Happy New Year!” echoed around the room, each of them spreading an abundance of enthusiasm around the table. Jumin ended the meeting after that, and they gathered their things to head outside. It was cold, the sky just beginning to turn deep purple, the sun disappearing behind the mountains. They walked in a group across the small park in front of the restaurant, heading to the lot where their cars were waiting for them.

Saeyoung started it, which was as much a metaphor for most of the things that happened to them as anything else that Nicky could think of. No one saw him doing anything until it was too late, and the wad of snow was sailing across the air, smacking into Vanderwood’s back with a soft thud. She turned, looking at him with a murderous glint in her eye before she ducked down, grabbing a handful of fluffy white and flinging it in his direction. Her aim was impeccable, but his evasion skills were also top notch, so when he ducked the friendly missile sailed over him and crashed into Yoosung.

Saeyoung laughed as he grabbed Nicky’s hand, dragging her back behind some trees as a volley of snowballs slammed into the trunks behind them. She poked her head around the bark, peering into the clearing to see everyone scattering with fistfuls of snow. Laughter filled the air, a choir of joy that echoed between the barren branches of the towering trees, resounding as it crystallized their love amidst the growing night. Another snowball was lobbed in her direction, and she yelped and ducked around the edge of safety again, giggling as flakes of loose powder scattered around them. Saeyoung pinned her against the tree, kissing her and swallowing her mirth. His lips were like summer blooming in winter, impossibly warm, impossibly soft. He brushed the snow from her hair, holding her face as he deepened the kiss, their breath mingling as they both sighed. Her heart thudded in her chest, her blood sang in her veins. She loved this man, with all that she was.

It was brought to an abrupt end when Saeran gleefully dumped an armful of snow over their heads, cackling as he raced out of Saeyoung’s reach. The brother’s chased each other for a time, before Saeran managed to dart across the park, at which point Saeyoung returned for her, and they began the battle in earnest.

The great war of snow and mirth lasted for three hours. Factions were formed among them, the loyalties of the couples separating them in the thick of it. Yoosung got stuck in a tree after the first hour, and Anna had to broker a truce in order to gain enough time to pull him free before he was buried in an avalanche of attacks. Zen and Jaehee found a patch of brambles and began engaging in guerrilla warfare, making their stand in the midst of the thorns. Their mistake was losing focus, the pair of them too besotted with how the other looked in the snow to resist losing themselves in kisses, leaving them open to be overtaken by the rest of them. Vanderwood and Saeran made a team that was fearsome and untouchable, erecting an igloo of impenetrable security from which they could snipe all approachers. Nicky and Saeyoung allied themselves with Jumin and Aleks, and using their combined abilities they were able to bring down the ice fortress. Zen and Jaehee soon joined, followed by Anna and Yoosung, and by the time the structure was thoroughly destroyed they were all covered in snow and exhausted. In a moment of brazen miscalculation, Zen declared himself the sole victor of the evening by virtue of having the least amount of snow stuck to his jacket. This earned him the ire of all, and the other boys worked together to hold him down while Nicky and Jaehee crafted a fedora out of slushy fluff, dropping it on his head to serve as his “winner’s crown”. After that they tumbled to the ground together, sides cramping as they dissolved into raucous laughter.

In the end, they were crowded in a pile on the ruffled snow, looking up at the stars as they winked into existence in the deepening night. They were so tangled in one another that it was impossible to feel cold, even if the ground was frozen beneath them. Nicky was using Saeyoung as a pillow, Zen and Jaehee were tucked under her left arm, with Saeran under her right. Jumin had his head on her stomach, his arms wrapped around Aleks to pull him in close. Vanderwood was sitting up, her arms around her knees as Yoosung leaned against her back, Anna tucked safely in his embrace. They stayed like that, counting the stars as they appeared, naming them frivolous things, unaware of the chill because they leeched warmth into each other. It was perfection that could not be contained, which is why they giggled and smiled to no end.

It was a new year, and they had started it well. Nicky felt loved, and safe. She felt as though whatever the future had in store for them, they would weather it together. Unshakable in their faith in each other. They had survived so much, and against all odds had come out on the other side closer than they had been before. It was a rare feat, a precious gift worthy of being cherished the way she knew each of them did.

And she herself would cherish them to the ends of the sky, because Nicky knew, of all people, what it meant to no longer be alone.


	109. They Made Galaxies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a surprise or two.

**707: Okay, we** **’re good. Who has questions?**

**808: Change my name.**

**707: That** **’s not a question lolololol**

**Mom: If you** **’re changing names, fix mine.**

**Yoosung: lol why didn** **’t you just give him the screen name “Saeran”?**

**808: I would prefer that.**

**707: Fix it yourself.**

**ZEN: Are you sure Nicky won** **’t see this?**

**707: Nah, I got it covered.**

**707: It** **’s a blind session.**

**808: I could fix THAT.**

**707: NO. BETRAYAL.**

**707: My own brother plotting against me!**

**808: Then fix my name.**

**707: lol I** **’ll think about it**

**Jaehee: In case you were wondering, that means** **“never” in Saeyoung-speak.**

**808: I** **’m aware >.>**

**Yoosung: lol he probably knows better than all of us**

**Jumin: Can we get back on topic? I have a meeting in an hour.**

**Aleks: The one with the cat company??**

**Jumin: Yes :3 They have been very amenable to the idea**

**Aleks: That** **’s so exciting!!!**

**ZEN: CAT** **’S CAN’T PLAY GOLF**

**ZEN: STOP TRYING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN**

**Yoosung: lolololol maybe if you put catnip on the balls**

**Jumin: Yoosung, that is an excellent idea. Jaehee, could you add that to my notes?**

**Jaehee: -_- yes**

**Yoosung: lolol sorry Jaehee**

**Jaehee: it** **’s fine. I go on vacation after this project, so I can power through it.**

**ZEN: I cannot wait to get you on the beach.**

**ZEN: It** **’s going to be so romantic <3**

**Jaehee: <3**

**707: You just want to get her in a swimsuit**

**808: Don** **’t be crude.**

**707: You sound like Nicky >.<**

**808: You sound like an idiot.**

**Mom: stop bickering**

**808: Yes mom**

**707: Yes mom**

**Mom: *sigh***

**Jumin: Saeyoung. Focus. The party.**

**707: Right, yes. I need everybody to be here no later than 3 to help me set up.**

**Anna: I finished the lighting design, btw.**

**Yoosung: it** **’s so cool!!!! You should see it!!!**

**Anna: Do you want me to send the final schematics before I build it?**

**707: lol no, I totally trust you.**

**Anna: Are you sure? I** **’m only an engineering student, and I’ve never really worked with lighting before…**

**Yoosung: you did the lighting at the party, and everybody loved that**

**Yoosung: besides, it** **’s a fantastic design, honey. Stop worrying about it**

**707: Yeah, honey, I** **’m sure it will be everything I need. <3**

**Yoosung: hey!**

**808: Just ignore him. He tires himself out after a while and goes away.**

**707: Awe, you DO notice me.**

**Aleks: Did you get the jewelry recommendations that I sent to you?**

**707: Oh, yeah, ages ago. My order already came lol**

**Aleks: Good, I** **’ll tell my cousin you liked them.**

**Jumin: The one that just got engaged?**

**Aleks: Yes, the same.**

**Aleks: He was so excited talking about the engagement, he couldn** **’t resist sharing the company when I mentioned Saeyoung’s plans.**

**Jumin: Didn** **’t you say they were in Barcelona? I’m surprised they could ship anything on such short notice.**

**707: Anybody ships on short notice if you pay enough.**

**ZEN: ugh, you sound like Jumin.**

**Jumin: You mean he sounds right?**

**ZEN: -_-**

**Jumin:** **;)**

**ZEN: ugh don** **’t wink at me**

**Jumin: I was winking at Aleks.**

**Aleks: <3**

**Jumin: You just thought it was at you because you** **’re conceited.**

**ZEN: Fine, yes, I** **’m conceited. Whatever.**

**ZEN: At least I** **’m honest.**

**707: Hey boys**

**707: keep it nice, or Nicky** **’s fedora senses will start tingling**

**Aleks: But she can** **’t log in?**

**707: Theoretically.**

**Jaehee: You aren** **’t even sure?!**

**808: what a failure**

**707: What?! Hacking is finicky business**

**808: lol no, you just suck at it**

**707: shut up. Didn** **’t you quit?**

**Anna: Saeran, didn** **’t you say you started writing poetry?**

**Mom: He** **’s very talented. He’s going to be published.**

**808: It** **’s nothing. Just some words.**

**Mom: Don** **’t belittle yourself.**

**Anna: That** **’s so exciting! Will you let us read it?**

**808: No.**

**Anna: Oh** **…**

**Yoosung: Hey, that** **’s not very nice.**

**Jaehee: It** **’s his poem, he should not be required to share it.**

**Jaehee: Though, I would also like to see it, if you change your mind.**

**ZEN: You should let me do a dramatic reading.**

**Jumin: He would sully it, for certain.**

**Jumin: You do not have the finesse for poetry.**

**ZEN: I HAVE MORE FINESSE THAN YOU COULD EVEN DREAM OF.**

**Aleks: I wholeheartedly disagree** **. **

**707: lololololol**

**ZEN: No comment.**

**Jumin: it** **’s a miracle**

**Jumin: the silence is like a holy gift**

**Yoosung: do you have to be so antagonistic? -_-**

**Anna: Jumin, you are baiting him a bit ^^;;;;;**

**Jumin: I apologize if I have offended you, Anna.**

**Anna: Oh!!! No, not at all!!!**

**ZEN: ???**

**ZEN: APOLOGIZE TO ME, YOU JERK.**

**Jaehee: HEY. Weren** **’t we talking about poetry?**

**808: this is exactly why I didn** **’t bring it up**

**707: lol I could email it**

**808: DO NOT**

**707: I did it to Nicky once**

**808: you** **’re the worst**

**707: What? It was so everybody could see how awesome she was.**

**808: Did you even ask her first?**

**707: Uh** **…**

**707: I told her after.**

**808: I have no idea why she** **’s with you.**

**ZEN: lolololol you and me both**

**Aleks: Hush, let them be happy.**

**Jumin: Yes, Zen, stop judging other people** **’s relationship choices.**

**Yoosung: here we go again**

**ZEN: I SAID I WAS SORRY**

**ZEN: ALEKS I SWEAR I** **’M NOT JUDGING YOU**

**Aleks: ^^;;;**

**Jaehee: You are lucky Nicky can** **’t see this ^^**

**ZEN: yeah yeah**

**808: Can we focus? I have things to do.**

**Yoosung: lol**

**808: Why is that funny?**

**Yoosung: uh, it** **’s not**

**Yoosung: I mean**

**Anna: he was just agreeing!!**

**Jaehee: Nice save, Anna**

**808: Don** **’t you have homework to do, little ducks?**

**ZEN: omg he** **’s calling them ducks now, too**

**Jumin: and pushing work ethic. I approve.**

**707: he fits in so well ^^**

**808: shut up**

**Mom: seconded**

**Yoosung: lolololol**

**Jaehee: Saeyoung, is there anything else you need me to arrange before the party?**

**707: I told you, I got this one**

**707: Besides, it** **’s not like, a BIG thing.**

**Jumin: I disagree. If you are not taking this seriously then perhaps you are not ready.**

**ZEN: You had BETTER be taking it seriously**

**707: chill, I meant the size of the party**

**808: Trust me, he** **’s serious**

**808: He won** **’t stop talking about it**

**808: Except when she** **’s in the room**

**Jaehee: Are you sure she would want us around for this?**

**Jaehee: It seems like it should be** **…more intimate.**

**Yoosung: lol hey Zen, hope you** **’re paying attention**

**707: lololol**

**707: I mean, if I were honest**

**Mom: please don** **’t**

**707: I would prefer to do it alone, and naked**

**Mom: he did anyways**

**808: brb, vomiting**

**707: So I could immediately reap the benefits**

**Yoosung: lolol you really don** **’t have to go to all this trouble to get laid**

**ZEN: THIS CONVERSATION IS OVER NOW.**

**ZEN: SAEYOUNG, WE WILL ARRIVE AT THREE.**

**ZEN: IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE WE NEED TO KNOW?**

**Jumin: Stop typing in all caps.**

**ZEN: Saeyoung answer before I start yelling at Jerkface again.**

**707: Okay, the only other thing is** **…**

**707: nobody tell her.**

**707: it HAS to be a surprise**

**Yoosung: lololol the last great secret of the SFA**

**Anna: Oh, my class is starting, I have to go.**

**Anna: See you guys Friday!!**

**_Anna has left the chatroom._ **

**Yoosung: Hey Saeyoung, make sure you tell her how awesome the lights look when you see them**

**Yoosung: she** **’s so nervous about it**

**707: Will do ^^**

**Yoosung: Good. I have class in a bit too, I should probably doublecheck my hw**

**Jumin: Yoosung, it is so good to see you so diligent**

**Yoosung: Thanks!**

**Yoosung: See you guys at the party ^^**

**_Yoosung has left the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Babe, are we still meeting for lunch?**

**Jumin: We have no lunch plans.**

**Aleks: Please don** **’t respond when he says “babe”**

**Jumin: oops.**

**707: lolololololol**

**707: trolled the wrong person, Jumin~**

**Jaehee: I** **’m logging out now, because you’re all tiresome.**

**Jaehee: See you at lunch, Zenny~**

**_Jaehee has left the chatroom._ **

**808: lol Zenny**

**ZEN: What?**

**808: lol**

**ZEN: yeah, whatever ~Twitch~**

**Mom: What** **’s wrong with that name?**

**707: lol it** **’s better than “moron”**

**Mom: Maybe I wouldn** **’t call you that so often if you weren’t the stupid brother**

**808: LOL**

**Jumin: I have to leave for my meeting.**

**Aleks: Good luck~**

**Jumin: Thank you :3**

**707: Make us proud :3**

**Jumin:** **…**

**_Jumin has left the chatroom._ **

**Aleks: One of these days he** **’s going to punch you.**

**707: lololol I figured as much**

**ZEN: I wouldn** **’t laugh, he has a mean right hook**

**Mom: haha**

**Mom: I** **’m leaving now, I have shit to do.**

**_Mom has left the chatroom._ **

**707: Whoosh!**

**707: She** **’s gone.**

**Aleks: I must leave as well, I have a meeting with an advisor.**

**Aleks: bye!!**

**_Aleks has left the chatroom._ **

**ZEN: Shit, they just called my name for the audition.**

**ZEN: Wish me luck!**

**707: You don** **’t need it, you’re gonna get this part**

**ZEN: Thanks.**

**_Zen has left the chatroom._ **

**808: So, excited that it** **’s almost time?**

**707: Yes.**

**707: Nervous.**

**808: Don** **’t be nervous.**

**707: lol why not?**

**707: You said it yourself. There** **’s no logical reason she should be with me.**

**808: I don** **’t think logic is the point, dummy**

**808: You two were made for each other.**

**707: You don** **’t think she would have been happier with one of the other’s?**

**808: No.**

**808: It was always you. From the beginning.**

**808: It will always be you.**

**808: So don** **’t be nervous.**

**707: Thanks, Saeran.**

**808: Yeah.**

**808: Hey Saeyoung?**

**707: Yo?**

**808: I** **’m happy for you.**

**_808 has left the chatroom._ **

**707: Empty chatroom.**

**707: Nobody will see it, since this is gonna disappear when I log out**

**707: but just so I say it at least once**

**707: Thank you. All of you.**

**707: You stuck by me, through everything, and now I** **’m gonna get a happy ending.**

**707: I** **’m so glad you were with me to share it.**

**_707 has left the chatroom._ **

****

***

There was a light rain drifting down from the clouds, casting the trees in layers of dew. Nicky loved the way it smelled, the air filled with the aromas of spring. Floral undertones carried on the clean, water filtered breeze. Cut grass, newly pressed from below loamy soil. It was the scent of life, the scent of renewal, and it filled her with hope. She especially liked walked down the street to Saeyoung’s place, because it was lined with cherry trees, their blossoms overtaking the leaves so that they were blotches of pink and white that stretched towards the sky. The petals drifted to the ground, some of them heavy with the drizzle, some of them spinning in the wind.

It was difficult to keep herself from smiling, or to stop herself from skipping as she made her way to Saeyoung’s. Everything had been so blissful lately that she felt like she wanted to grin and laugh always, overflowing with joy. Things had been getting better lately for all of them, and she was so glad that she could participate in the various celebrations. Zen had gotten a role in what could turn out to be a very big movie, and they had thrown a party in his honor. He was overjoyed at the opportunity, even though the details that he had been provided were slim. Saeran had started writing to pass the time, and it had turned out that he had a singular gift for poetry. He was going to be published in a literary magazine slated to be released in May, and there were several prestigious literary agents trying to sign him into their care. Nicky herself had returned to school, and her spring semester was going much smoother than the fall. There was no longer any drama following her, and she felt like she belonged more than she ever had before. It helped that Aleks was often there with her, and she owed a lot to his encouragement. It was because of him that she had built up enough courage to be able to perform at the party they had held back in February. The guests had selected the piece that involved all three of them working together, and the applause when they had finished had been so thunderous she thought she might go deaf from the force of it.  She hadn’t doubted her abilities as much since then, which was a greater relief than she had thought it would be.

Her lips curved upward, her fingers shaking as she thought of all the reasons that she had to be happy. The surprise that she had for Saeyoung was certainly one of them. She hoped that he would be as happy as she was, although she was confident that he would. She knew that he thought about it a lot, even if it was rare for him to bring it up. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

She reached the small driveway that led up to his place and increased her pace, skipping up to the security gate that loomed tall in front of the building. She put in the security code, singing the lines from the piece they had performed at the party, as Saeyoung had assigned it as the password ever since he had heard her sing them. It was in French, but it roughly translated to “my family was built from love, not blood, and that’s what makes it stronger”. The gate opened, letting her through, and she stepped under the awning within, brushing stray petals out of her hair and shaking off the clinging remnants of the rain. She took a deep breath, eager and nervous, then made her way to the door.

It wasn’t locked, since he never latched it when he knew she would be coming over, so she twisted the handle and pushed it inward. She was surprised to be greeted with silent darkness on the other side. She stepped in, the door clicking shut behind her, and fumbled for the light switch that she knew was somewhere on the wall. After a few moments she located it, and flicked it upward, but nothing happened.

Something felt off, and a small coil of fear started swirling in her stomach.

“Saeyoung?” she took another step inside, and she was met with stony silence. “Saeyoung?!”

She was just beginning to panic when a small point of light flared to life at her feet. It looked like a Christmas light, white with the faintest hints of blue from the pearly glass surrounding the wires within. She leaned down to look at it, and as she did another light winked on next to it. She stood, watching in awe as, one after another, little dots of glow and charm bloomed around her. Her breath caught in her throat as they extended across the ceiling, along the floor, draped across the walls. A galaxy had just formed around her, the darkness easing as it filled with stars, illuminating the world with gentleness and love. When all the false stars had come out, another cluster of lights faded into view at the back of the room, and that was when she saw them, everyone that she loved gathered in the midst of the breathtaking beauty of space.

Saeyoung was standing at the front, wearing a white suit that looked like it was woven from silver moonlight. He smiled at her, fidgeting with his tie, his gaze filled with so much love that she thought it could power all the lights in the room and then some. She wanted to run to him, to sink into his arms and never let go, but the gravity of the universe swirling around her kept her still. She was rooted to the spot as he walked towards her, his steps measured. When he reached her he took her hand, his thumb brushing over the tops of her knuckles. He stared at the place where they touched for a moment, his expression soft, the thoughts building behind his eyes telling tales of fate and attachment that she knew they felt for one another equally. She let him take his time, swallowing around the lump in her throat. She couldn’t have spoken even if her brain had any words in it, because her lips had gone numb and useless. Tingles ran up and down her spine, lacing through the rest of her nerves to make her feel as though she were floating in a sea of champagne. She trembled, and he felt it, so he smiled at her reassuringly.

“I ran away from home when I was fourteen, leaving one life of darkness behind to trade it for another. I gave up all that I was and everything that I was going to be, because I thought it was the right thing to do. I was never happy about it, but I lived with my decision. I was fine with darkness…until I met you. You walked into my life, full of light and kindness, and changed _everything._ You changed how I saw the world, how I saw the future, and most importantly you changed how I saw myself. I couldn’t be the lonely person that I thought I was, because suddenly there was someone out there that I needed in my life. I fell in love with you, and when I did it was liking waking up for the first time in years. There were pieces of my heart that had always been missing, and you found them and helped me put it all back together. You were kind to me when I was sad or stressed, you were patient with me when I was foolish and cruel. You loved me even when I was at my lowest, and didn’t deserve any of it.” He drew in a slow breath that shook as it filled his lungs. He smiled at her, tears toying at the edges of his eyes, magnified through the lenses of his glasses. He sank onto his knee, lifting her hand to his lips for a brief kiss as he pulled a small, velvet box from the pocket of his jacket. He popped it open, and she could see a ring of diamonds and midnight sapphires that looked like stars molded onto silver. She couldn’t help it, had no hope of suppressing it, and a small sob worked its way out of her throat as she clapped her free hand over her mouth, delirious with emotion. “Nicky, I want to spend the rest of my life loving you with everything that I have. Will you…would you allow me that chance? Will you marry me?”

She burst into tears, falling to her knees to throw her arms around his neck. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Their lips found each other as he pulled her in closer, hands wrapping around her back, and she was vaguely aware of applause coming from the others in the room. They were galaxies away, though. Here, now, all that existed was the man that she loved and the stars that he had made for her. Their souls collided with the tempestuous beauty of novas, painting the sky, lighting up and creating sound and color and movement where before there had been nothing but empty space. With the light of their love they made galaxies, and he had torn stars down from the heavens to place them around her finger as proof. They were forever, they were eternity, though that had always been true. It was never in question that she would spend her existence loving him, because there was only ever one outcome when it came to her heart.

There was only ever one person that she could love, and she would always love him, with all her might.

***

They were standing in the back of the room, bathed in the soft lighting that Anna had arranged as they watched Yoosung try to explain what an MMO was to Saeran. Saeyoung chuckled, shaking his head as his brother accused Yoosung of being strangely violent for wanting to pretend to kill people, offering to take Yoosung with him to therapy to help ‘curb his destructive tendencies’. This provided great amusement to the others, and Saeyoung knew that it would be fodder to tease Yoosung with for a long time.

Nicky took his hand, lacing her fingers with his and laying her head on his shoulder. It was impossible for him to feel happier, he was certain of it. He had reached max capacity for joy, stealing more of it than he was ever meant to have, and there was no further perfection than this. His fiancé was next to him, his family smiling and together. He could not ask for more, and he was perfectly content.

“Did you know?” the quite amusement in her voice surprised him. He looked down at her, and she had tilted her head up so that she could see him, her eyes bright and full of devotion.

“Know what?”

“You really didn’t?” Her eyebrow twitched, her smile mischievous.

He leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose. “Since I don’t know what you’re talking about, I guess I didn’t.”

“I love you.” She was bursting with something, more than just the enthusiasm for their engagement, more than just the happiness she always exuded when all their friends came together like they were now.

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I love you too. Would you like to stop being so mysterious and explain what it is I didn’t know?”

She turned her head, looking at the others, a glimmer in her gaze that was brighter than all the lights in the room combined. She fell silent, and he waited, letting her draw out the suspense. Whatever it was that she had to say, she was enjoying making him wait for it, and even though it chafed at him to the point of madness, he didn’t have the heart to deny her the fun.

“We’ll need to pick out a name.”

“Eh?” that was not what he expected to come out of her mouth.

“Also, I’m not living in the bunker. I need windows, and this place is all wrong for this. In fact, you should have moved out sooner, for Saeran’s sake.”

He frowned at her in consternation, completely confused. “What are you -”

“Saeyoung…” she lifted her head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze and taking his hand. She placed it on her lower abdomen, and he could feel it rising as she took a deep breath. “We made it. Through everything, we made it, and now…I’m…” she was smiling, more tears in her eyes, glittering like magic. She couldn’t find any more words, and so she lapsed into silence once more. He looked at his hand on her stomach, then back at the light in her eyes.

Everything came together and fell apart in one single moment, and he let out a cry of joy that startled everyone around them into silence. He jumped into the air, placing his hands around her hips and lifting her with him. He wrapped himself around her, swinging them in a circle as he laughed, as he cried, as he thanked God for blessings he could never earn.

“Really?” he kissed her, peppering her face with affection, doubting the truth of the situation only because he couldn’t believe that it was possible. “Really, you’re saying what I think you’re saying?”

She nodded, laughter like music pouring out of her, filling the room, filling his ears and his heart and his soul. He spun them again, kissing her slowly, refusing to let her go even for an instant. He hadn’t even dared to hope for such a thing yet, even though he had wanted it so desperately that it had become an ache in his chest whenever the thought had crossed his mind. She had given him a gift worth more than the entire world, and he could not contain his euphoria. He was aware that everyone was staring at them, but he didn’t care. He was too happy to care about anything else.

“What’s going on?” Zen was frowning at them, crossing his arms over his chest.

Saeran stood from his place on the couch, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Is…is everything okay?”

Saeyoung kissed his fiancé a final time, then deposited her back on the ground. He turned, and without warning he ran to his brother, smashing him into a hug that drove some of the air out of his chest. Saeyoung couldn’t stop smiling, and he knew it was making them all nervous, but he couldn’t help it. Who could blame him? Saeran looked alarmed rather than reassured, so Saeyoung stepped back, holding him at arm’s length.

“You’re going to be an uncle!”

“U…uncle?” Saeran choked on the word, his eyes wide in shock. For the span of three seconds the room was deathly silent, no one moving as the phrase and its meaning sank into their awareness.

Then it was blissful chaos, everyone shouting and screaming at once, hugs being shared between them so much that Saeyoung felt dizzy. He looked at all the happiness in the room, and he knew that no one person deserved this much good, especially not him. Through the grace of a God that he didn’t understand, he had been given more than he had ever dreamed of, and even though he couldn’t comprehend it, he would cherish it forever, because it was offered to him. He didn’t deserve his brother, he didn’t deserve Nicky, he didn’t deserve the beautiful child that she would bring into this world. He didn’t deserve any of it, but he would spend all his energy trying to be worthy anyways.

He would love until the end of his days, because that’s what Nicky had taught him, and he had oh so much love to give.


	110. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find an end, at the cusp of a beginning.

_The sun shone down on the marked stone, the light toying with the leaves in the trees to make dancing patterns of shadow across the grave. Even through the shadows, the sunlight reached him. That seemed important._

_“Papa, why do we come here every year?”_

_He glanced at his daughter, her hair in fiery ringlets around her chubby cheeks. He smiled, feeling like a sad, old man as he did._

_“To apologize. To forgive.”_

_“For what?” she was innocence personified, her curiosity beautiful to him in ways he couldn’t express._

_He picked her up and placed her on his shoulder, her weight nothing more substantial than air._

_“Because I want to make sure he sees you, and knows how beautiful and smart you are.”_

_She grinned at that._ _“Who was he?”_

_“…A friend.” The word seemed wrong, but what other title could they attribute to him? The burdens of V’s memory were too heavy to lay on the shoulders of his daughter. Too heavy for his own shoulders, some days._

_She craned her neck so that she could see his face._ _“You’re crying.”_

_“Yes.” He cleared his throat, his mouth feeling thick and dry. “It’s sad when you’ve had to say goodbye to a friend.”_

_“Why did you have to say goodbye?”_

_“Because…” what reason was there? What could he say in defense of the way their past had crumbled beneath a hundred different mistakes? She was too young to understand their folly, but he couldn’t bear to lie to her. “I couldn’t save everyone.”_

_She fell silent, or he fell silent, or they lapsed into heavy silence together._

_“Papa…?”_

_“Hush, dearest.” Nicky’s voice was soft yet firm, scolding their child with as much love as he had always wished his o_ _wn mother had shown them._ _“We can talk about it when we get home if you have questions.”_

_“Mama, is Papa okay?”_

_Nicky smiled, so radiant that the sun seemed to dim around her beauty and grace._ _“Of course. His heart is full of love, and as long as you keep that love in your heart, then nothing can ever extinguish your light.”_

_The small child tilted her head to the side, perplexed._ _“Papa, what does that mean?”_

_He laughed, looking at Nicky with so much love in his chest that he thought he might perish from it._ _“It means your Mama is very wise.”_

_“Oh.” She squirmed on his shoulders, her small fingers sticking to his hair. “When we get home, can I go outside with Saeran? He said he was going to teach me how to catch butterflies.”_

_“Of course, my love.”_

_Anything you dream of, I will help you accomplish._

Saeyoung woke up, his eyes still blurred with sleep so that the imagery from the dream flickered in his gaze. He looked at Nicky, resting next to him, her stomach just starting to swell with their future, with the endless possibilities of life. She was his wife now. He was married to his soul mate, the only person in all the galaxies that he would ever want to give his heart to, and they were having a _baby_.

He rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tighter. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, and he let it lull him back towards sleep.

The dream had been a nice one. Maybe after their child was born he would take them by V’s grave, to show him. Saeyoung thought he might like that. To see all the wonder that had come from the chaos. To see that, even if it hadn’t been what they wanted, that at least something good had come from things that had been so wrong. Something that might just make it all worth it.

Something that shined brighter than the tragedy, as bright as all the stars in the sky.

_I will always love you, Space Princess. Until the end of time._

*

And they lived happily ever after, with rainbows and sugar sprinkles.

_Mostly._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe it's finished. I can't believe that I made it through this crazy, far too long and verbose, rollercoaster of emotions story. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that has been reading, and commenting. Thank you to all of you that left Kudos, or bookmarked it. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for going on this adventure with me. I'm seriously crying because I don't know how to express my gratitude that you took time out of your lives to read something that I wrote. I am humbled and honored and awed every day that you would do me that kindness, and I hope that each of you knows that I noticed you and cherished your presence. Even if you couldn't make it all the way through, and won't ever see this ending or this note, I still remember that you started, and I appreciate it so much.
> 
> I hope that I will get to see some of you again in my other stories. Until then, I hope that I was able to bring you some kind of joy or value through all these words. I hope that my story brought you a fraction of the happiness that it brought me to be able to share it with you. 
> 
> I love you all. 
> 
> Goodnight.


	111. BOOK

Hey all!!!

This is not a real chapter, but a quick update to announce to all my AO3 lovelies that my first novel is officially out and in the wild!!

You can find more information on my tumblr, and direct links at the following tumblr page: http://zombolouge.tumblr.com/ZomBarber

The book is technically dedicated to everyone on AO3 that ever commented on one of these fics. Please know that you were all a part of the creation of this novel, as you were all a part of helping me grow and gain confidence as a writer. 

 

<3


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